Incomplete
by Calgarywriter
Summary: No matter how good life is, without that person who makes our heart sing, we are incomplete. A year after the tragic loss of one of their own, the BAU takes on a twisted case with circumstances that push Derek to the very edge of his control and beyond.
1. Chapter 1

Both the ringing of the telephone and years of ingrained training, had Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan bolting upright and reaching for his cell in one streamlined movement. Throwing his bed covers off, he pulled himself to the edge of his bed and was wide awake before his phone even made it halfway to his ear.

"Morgan." Although Derek's head was already awake and on alert, the rest his body was somewhat slower to respond. His voice was little more than a sleepy rasp echoing softly into the darkness, forcing him to turn his head slightly away from the mouthpiece and release a small cough to clear his scratchy throat.

"Derek, it's J.J. We need everyone here - now. How quick can you get back to the office?"

Derek knew that the ringing of the telephone in the middle of the night with J.J. on the other end could only mean one thing; a case - one that couldn't wait until morning. He also knew that when time was of the essence, it usually meant a child or children were involved and out of all their cases, the ones involving kids always cut him to the quick and never seemed to get any easier to take.

"Derek?"

His dark thoughts had his gut clenching in apprehension, instantly evaporating any trace of moisture in his mouth and he had to swallow twice before quietly answering. "Sorry J.J., I'm here. A bad one?"

"They're all bad, but yeah Derek, this time it's particularly nasty. Everyone's on their way and I'll brief the team after you all get here if that's okay with you. I really don't want to go through the gory details more times than I already have to."

"Gotcha. Be there in ten."

Snapping his phone shut, he ran his hands slowly down the length of his face and took a deep breath. Force of habit had him sending a quick glance over his shoulder to the mattress behind him. Instead of a body warming the other side of his bed, the sheets although thoroughly tangled, were empty. He shook his head partly in bitter amusement, but mostly in disgust. He didn't know why his heart kept looking something his mind already knew wasn't going to be there and that fact wasn't going to change no matter what his heart believed. He'd been sleeping alone for a good year now and sometimes he still expected to go to sleep at night and wake up and find her beside him, which in turn made the nights bad enough and the mornings even worse. Even though every day was a little less difficult than the day before, he knew he still had a long way to go to get to where he needed to be. Yet after all this time, more often than not, he awoke bathed in a glistening sheen of moisture, his heart racing and heavy with an ache that just wouldn't go away. The thought itself was enough to send a piercing stab of pain straight through his chest like a calloused hand wrapping agonizingly around the centre of his heart, clenched so tightly he could barely breathe. For a few seconds, breathing felt like he was inhaling shards of glass instead of oxygen.

Ruthlessly he shoved the thoughts and his feelings aside as he stepped into the bathroom. He had a job to do and now wasn't the time to dwell in the past. Since time dictated only the most basic morning ritual, a quick wash of his face, brush of his teeth, and a swipe of deodorant had him nearly ready in less than two minutes. Looking in the mirror, he'd decided to forgo a shave for a cup of coffee and seconds later, he was dressed and out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Living minutes away from the BAU ensured that Derek would no doubt be the first to arrive back at the office, giving him plenty of time to make a quick pit stop at the 24hr coffee kiosk in the lobby of their building. After paying for his coffee, he took a moment to enjoy a few deep swallows of what he deemed to be nectar from the Gods, before heading over to the bank of elevators. Feeling more awake with each sip, he continued to pay silent homage to his fragrant brew all the way to the 6th floor, so much so, he was almost finished the entire drink before the elevator even reached its destination.

Once he passed through the BAU glass doors, he promptly began to scan the area looking for J.J., surprised to discover she was no where to be found. Something in her voice had him assuming that she'd been calling him from the office, but that was a ridiculous presumption for him to make and one he'd never made before, given that she'd received cases via her cell phone all the time. The thought brought a brief frown to his features and immediately prompted him wonder what caused him to arrive at such an outcome without any facts to back it up, especially since being who he was and what he did for a living, he normally wasn't the type to jump to conclusions.

Lost in his musings, Derek finished the remainder of his coffee as he dropped his jacket and ready bag at his desk before finally making his way upstairs, intending to get things ready to go by the time everyone else arrived. Soundlessly he entered the darkened conference room, not a small feat by any means for a man with his solid build and muscle mass, but it was both second nature to him and done without conscious thought. His almost feline grace and athleticism, along with the years of Martial Arts under his belt, gave him the stealth-like trait and it was a big part of who he was, who he'd become.

Suddenly, his mind registered a noise alerting him of another presence in the room. His deeply ingrained instincts kicked in and had him reaching for his weapon while slamming on the overhead lights.

"J.J.?" Alarm had Derek holstering his gun and crouching down at her side in seconds.

"Morgan, I'm fine. I...I just needed to close my eyes for a minute."

He'd seen her barely flinch when the lights unexpectedly shot on, never even opening her eyes at the unexpected intrusion. Instead, he watched her clench both her hands into fists and shut her eyes even tighter. Outwardly her voice was completely calm and controlled, but he could still detect the barely contained feelings bubbling beneath the calm exterior, thickly lacing each word with emotion as it left her lips. Her body was strung tighter than an archer's bow and tension rolled off her in waves, telling him far more than any words she could have spoken. He didn't have to be a Profiler to see her control was hanging by a thread and it was growing thinner with each passing minute.

Gently he took her clenched fists in his hands, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns across her skin. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and persuasive. "Sweetheart, over this past year we've become close enough for me to know with just one look when you're not telling me the whole truth. Come on girl, open up those beautiful blue eyes of yours and say what it is you're not telling me. Trust me when I say it never has to go any further than this room."

Derek's calming ministrations and velvet tipped voice encouraged the tension to slip from her body until her hands lay relaxed and opened in his. Slowly she dragged her eyes open and met his warm brown orbs filled with caring sincerity and protectiveness. Unexpectedly, she felt her eyes fill with moisture and she tore her gaze away.

"Nu-uh princess. No take backs. Look at me." A gentle finger under her chin turned her head back in his direction. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I'll tell you one thing," her voice quivered and she took a couple of cleansing breaths before continuing. "If I could bottle that Morgan charm, I'd be filthy stinking rich. No wonder there's not a single woman on this planet that can resist you. On second thought, it would be registered as a lethal weapon and I'd end up in jail."

He threw his head back and his rich baritone laugh filled the room, effectively dispelling any remaining anxiety. J.J. grinned, pulled her hands from his and stood up.

"And if I could, I'd bottle up your diversionary abilities. I bet I'd have people flocking to me in droves just to get a taste. Think of the politicians alone! Of course it's a good thing that we both know I'm as immune to your diversions as you are to my charms, so I _know_ you didn't really think you'd get away with it, now did you?" Morgan leaned a hip against the table and crossed his arms, a single eyebrow cocked in question, his eyes still dancing with unchecked mirth. When she remained quiet, he spoke once more, all humour vanishing with his next words. "And you also know I'm relentless when I want to be, J.J. so fess up and get it over with while we're still alone, 'cause I'm not going anywhere until you do."


	3. Chapter 3

For a brief moment, J.J. considered brushing his concerns aside like she did any other time, but one look at Derek's face and she knew there would be no getting around him this time. Nor was there even the slightest chance of getting him to let it go, no matter what she said, so she wasn't even going to try. When Derek put his mind to it, he could clamp on tighter than a pit bull terrier and never let go and the harder you struggled, the tighter his grip became. He was right about one thing though; they were closer now than they ever were before and if she was going to talk, he would be the one she'd turn to before anyone else, even Emily. But she also knew it'd be difficult for her to completely open up to him about this. When she became part of the BAU, she'd inadvertently trained herself to field questions and withhold information from others in order to guard against anyone getting past her or using her to get to her team. It's an essential part of her job and makes her the best at what she does, but not so great when it came to letting friends and family in. For her, it was a harder habit to break than a recovering alcoholic passing by the open door of a bar.

With a quiet sigh, she knew the time had come for her to let it all out, but she didn't quite know where to start. Wrapping her arms around herself, she began to lightly pace back and forth in front of the empty murder board, gathering her thoughts. Then she found herself stopping directly in front of it and she stared hard at the blank surface, knowing that within the next half hour it would begin to fill with the faces of the team's newest case – and it broke her heart. Keeping her back to him, she began to softly speak.

"Over the years we've seen some of the worst things imaginable that humanity can dish out against one another. Time and time again, I'd think nothing could be worse than our last case, only to have another case fall across my desk proving just how wrong I was. Each time I got through the horrors by knowing that we would stop them, maybe not in time to save everyone, but we would save some, and when we were done, we'd put one more evil residing in this world away for good. But this case... I..." She had to stop and firmly press her fingertips against her lips to control the sudden trembling caused by the unwanted images of past victims filtering behind her sad eyes and through her mind like some kind of gruesome kaleidoscope stuck in the on position. She knew that Derek was quietly watching her with concern, but she needed to get herself back under control before she could speak again.

When it came to his friends and family, Derek had an endless supply of patience and understanding. And right now watching her struggle, he would have liked nothing better then to wrap J.J. up in the protective cocoon of his arms and do everything within his power to take away all her pain. However, he knew she was the type of person who had to work things out for herself first before she could accept comfort and sympathy from someone else, even those closest to her. So instead of doing what came naturally to him, he'd listen and wait until she was ready for more. Of course, that didn't stop him from continuing to nudge her along in that direction with a few gentle words. "That's the job J... it's who we are and what we do."

"No Derek, for some of us, it's who we _used_ to be. Quite frankly, given this case, I'm starting to think it's just not enough anymore." His words were like kindling to the fire burning beneath the surface and once lit, she couldn't seem to stop the flame from fully igniting and bursting out of her. She turned to face him then and met his concerned eyes with her own full of fiery anger and bitterness. "Not a single day goes by that I don't think about what we've all had to give up in the name of justice, or of all the victims who've been sacrificed along the way, including those closest to us. Gideon lost an old and dear friend, Hotch and Jack lost Hailey, and you and I lost our best friend to this endless war we're fighting – this war we both know we can't win because no matter how many cases we solve, there will always be another and another and another... just waiting for us on my desk when we get back, the next case more horrific than the last. How many more victims and people we love do we have to watch die before it finally kills us too? Pen wasn't just my best friend and she wasn't just your Baby girl. She was the part of our _family_ that made us whole and this damn job took her from us, took her from me. Damn it Derek, I don't care if she's been gone a year; my life is so dark without her and only getting darker. I miss her and I want her back. I just want her back."

Here was the break Derek had been waiting for. He pulled her into his arms just as the first teardrop landed on his chest, holding on to her as if their lives depended on it. "I miss her too princess, I miss her too," He whispered brokenly as he lay his cheek down upon her head and let his own tears escape, pouring out as much comfort as his own grief would allow and taking back as much as she could give. Of all the things he thought this could be about, this was the one he was least prepared to deal with. J.J. wasn't the only one in pain and it was hard to console someone when you felt like you were suffocating under the crushing weight of your own broken heart.


	4. Chapter 4

The urge to stay wrapped up in each other's arms and hide out from the rest of the world was overwhelming. In the past year, they'd become one another's safe haven, forever tethered and bound together by the commonality of the shared loss of a loved one. With great reluctance, Derek pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"Don't you quit on me girl. The best way we can honour Pen is to keep fighting the very evil that took her from us. To do anything else would be letting her down and that's something I have never done and I am just not prepared to do. When Haley died, I made a promise to her to keep our family together, no matter what it takes. Don't you make me break that promise."

"You ask too much, D." J.J pulled out of his loose embrace and swiped angrily at the residue of tears on her face.

"I've never asked you for more than you're capable. Tell me J, if Pen was here and I was asking the same of her, what would her answer be?" Derek knew he was pushing her, but he also knew if he didn't, she'd retreat so far into a shell that there'd be no getting her back. He refused to let that happen. He wouldn't let grief and guilt overtake any of them. Pen would never forgive him – he'd never forgive himself.

"That's low Morgan, even for you. You know damn well that Pen wouldn't quit on any of us; she'd be first in line and leading the way. But I'm not Pen and I can't become who she was, not even for you."

"Sweetheart, no one can be Pen and no one expects you to be. She was beyond unique and the cast was all but destroyed when the good Lord was done making her. But that doesn't mean we should forget what she stood for and believed in, what she would have wanted for us just because she's no longer with us. And I know for damn sure that she wouldn't want us to lose ourselves in our grief and give up."

"Derek..."

"J.J. Look," Derek said as he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a light squeeze of understanding. "In all the years you've known me, how many times have you ever seen me cry? And I'm not talking a tear escaping here and there. I'm talking full on, cry like a baby, crying."

Puzzled by the sudden new direction of their conversation, J.J. furrowed her brows before she answered him, wondering what he was getting at. "Up until a year ago, never. Since then, twice. The day we lost Pen and the day we said goodbye to her."

"Well that's where you're wrong. I'm about to let you in on a secret that up until now, only one other person besides myself has ever known." Derek let her go and turned to reach for the back of a chair, gripping it tightly while he fought his natural instinct to wall up his emotions. She needed to hear this, but he'd never gotten used to the feeling of feeling raw and exposed to another person. Keeping his eyes on the surface of the table so he wouldn't lose his nerve, he took a deep breath and began.

"After every case where we lost a child, I've had nightmares. I used to hit the gym until I was spent, hoping to be too exhausted to dream, but it never worked. As soon as I'd close my eyes, I'd see each and every victim that the Unsub took before we stopped them. I'd see them reaching out and hear them calling out to me to make it stop, to save them. The worse the case, the worse the nightmare. When Pen found out what was happening, she started making me go to her place or she'd come to mine, refusing to let me be alone after a case. Instead, she'd talk to me or we'd hold each other until I finally just let it all go, just let it all pour out. All the hurt, the anger, the frustration, the feelings of inadequacy, as well as all the guilt. Sometimes all I needed was just to talk, but sometimes, especially when the loss was great, or the case particularly horrific, I cried. But no matter which one, she refused to let me keep it inside or keep it to myself. And now since she's no longer here to keep the demons at bay, I've cried every damn day for the past year. Sometimes, like now, just a tear or two, and sometimes so much I didn't think I was ever going to stop." Derek stopped and raised his head to look her in the eyes, his own eyes filled with pain.

"My heart is in a permanent state of ache that won't go away no matter what I do. So let me tell you J.J., I know a thing or two about just wanting to walk away for good. But Pen wouldn't let me, not then and not now, and I'm not going to let you."

With that said and without saying another word, Derek straightened up and walked over to where she stood, her eyes wide and slightly shocked by his unexpected revelations. He bent his head to softly brush a kiss on her forehead before slowly straightening and quietly walking out of the conference room.


	5. Chapter 5

Instead of going after Derek, J.J. decided to let him be for now. They were both experiencing incredibly intense feelings and emotions at the moment and she knew he probably needed a few minutes to regroup as much as she did. The rest of the team would be here soon and she needed to take the time to get things back under control and back in perspective before they arrived. Strangely enough though, despite the emotional upheaval and the impact of Derek's stunning confession, she felt better and calmer then when she'd first arrived. Much like the aftermath of a vicious storm; debris everywhere, but yet the air still somehow oddly refreshing and filled with the promise of a new beginning.

Ten minutes later she had everything set up and ready to go for the team's arrival. Derek still hadn't returned, so she decided to see if she could find him and make sure everything was okay. Heading down the stairs, she could see at a glance that he wasn't in the Bullpen so she headed for the break room area. She found the area empty, but spotted signs of his presence in the freshly made coffee and spoon in the sink. With one more destination in mind, she headed back to the one place she'd avoided like the plague for the last year. No matter who occupied it these days, to her, it would always belong to Penelope and that was exactly the reason she still wouldn't – couldn't go inside. And guessing from Derek's hovering perch in the doorway, she wasn't the only one who felt that way. Leaning hard against the door frame of Garcia's bunker, he was an imposing figure with unfocused eyes staring blankly into the room, obviously reliving memories belonging only to him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She enquired softly, but then immediately winced at her poor choice of words.

"If only it were that simple. If it were, I'd gladly give every thought in my head, past and present, for the most important Penny to ever enter my life. Though Lord knows she'd kick me where I stand for ever calling her Penny." He turned to face her and offered up an echo of his normally infectious smile.

"I'm sorry Derek, I didn't..." J.J. began before Derek pushed away from the door frame and placed a finger to her lips to silence her apologetic words.

"Girl, haven't we walked around each other on eggshells long enough? You can't censor every single word you speak for fear that you'll say something that reminds me of Penelope and neither can I. _Everything_ reminds me of her – she was and always will be, my Baby Girl. We had a lot of history and made a lot of memories together over the years." He continued when he saw her face was alight with skepticism. "Sweetheart, I promise you I'm okay. In fact right now, I feel better than I have in a long time. Pen always said that talking things out somehow made everything easier to deal with and she was right, as usual."

J.J.'s doubt turned into a smile because she knew he was right and with a satisfied grin, she offered up further vocal agreement. "She wasn't called the 'Queen of all knowledge' and the 'Oracle of all things knowable and unknowable' for nothing, ya know."

Derek's eyes twinkled in merriment before laughing and playfully tapping the tip of her nose in response. "That she was, girl. That she was. C'mon Princess, let me buy you a cup of Joe before we have to get this show on the road." He flung a friendly arm around her shoulders and led her back towards the break room.

Like Derek, Emily and Reid made a pit stop at their desks to get rid of their coats and bags before heading back to the break room for some much needed coffee. Middle of the night cases always threw their systems out of whack for a day or two, and there was nothing like an instant caffeine jolt to get them through and back on track. When they walked in the break room, followed closely by Hotch and Rossi, Derek had just finished pouring J.J. and himself a second cup of coffee.

"I don't suppose by chance that you left any coffee for the rest of us mere mortals?" Emily asked Derek with a hopeful look on her face.

"Now Prentiss, do you really think I'd leave you high and dry?"

"In a word, yes," Emily replied instantly.

"When it comes to coffee...without question," Reid piped in.

"In a heartbeat," J.J. added.

"You wound me! Hotch, man, are you going to let them talk to me like that?" Derek turned to his Unit Chief in both mock appeal and feigned hurt.

"If it gets me a cup of coffee? You bet." While they were arguing, Hotch had reached up in to the cupboard and pulled down a mug for him and one for Rossi. Taking the last of the coffee, he passed a smiling Rossi his cup, then picked up his own before turning away from his astonished teammates with a slight smirk on his face. "Since it seems the coffee pot is empty, I guess they were right. Conference room in five everyone."


	6. Chapter 6

Once everyone was seated in the Conference room, J.J. began to lay out the new case. With a click of the remote, thirteen children, girls, and women of various ages, appeared on screen.

"Meet Bethany Kraft, 2, Tiffany Breton, 5, Patricia Stanton, 8, Veronica Matthews, 11, Georgia Boone 14, twins Jodi and Jessie Adams, 17, Ginger MacDonald, 20, Jennifer Brown, 23, Angelia Lewis, 26, Rosanna Hilson, 29, Siobhan Kelly, 32 and Christina Marx, 38. All from Virginia and the surrounding areas, all missing within the last fourteen months."

"Thirteen women and children missing and we're only hearing about this now?" Rossi asked in disbelief.

"That's because they went missing approximately one month apart using various methods, different days, different areas, different ages - starting from the oldest, Christina Marx, fourteen months ago, to Bethany Kraft, four days ago. There is nothing to connect the victims so the local LEO's didn't put it together as being related."

"Then how do we know they're connected?" Reid questioned.

J.J. swallowed visibly. Her discomfort and reluctance to continue, was as unusual as it was obvious, and it confused everyone except Derek. She looked to him for guidance and he held her gaze, silently encouraging her to continue with a barely perceptible nod. Taking a quick breath she continued. "DEA and ATF raided a tanker ship yesterday to bust up a drug trafficking ring. On the ship along with some firearms and several kilos of cocaine stored in several shipping containers, they also found a much larger container. When they opened it, they didn't find more drugs and/or guns like they'd been anticipating. Instead, they found it empty except for a few blankets, articles of clothing, blood, and... and human waste."

"So they weren't just trafficking drugs or firearms, were they?" Derek stated quietly, his eyes flat and devoid of emotion. When J.J.'s shook her head negatively, he tasted bile in the back of his throat. He didn't want to, but he had to know for sure... he had to ask for confirmation to the thought viciously circling in his head, though it came out like more of a statement than a question. "They were dealing in human cargo."

"Yes, we believe so. When they processed the container, they found traces of DNA and ran it against missing persons. The hits they got were a match to these missing girls. We were called in immediately after the connections were made even though DEA and ATF."

"You've got to be kidding me! My God there's a 2 year old little girl up there!" Emily cried out, unable to hold back her disgust any longer.

"It's not really all that surprising given that human trafficking is the fastest growing criminal industry in the world, tied with the illegal arms industry as the second largest, after the drug-trade. The total annual revenue for trafficking in persons is estimated to be between 5 and 9 billion US dollars. The International Labor Organization estimates worldwide that there are 246 million exploited children aged between 5 and 17 involved in debt bondage, forced recruitment for armed conflict, prostitution, pornography, illegal drug and arm trades, and other illicit activities around the world," Reid commented casually.

"Oh come on Reid that might explain the older girls, but Bethany? What good could someone that young possibly be to anyone?" Emily exclaimed heatedly.

"On a global scale, the victims of human trafficking are used in a variety of situations. Parents may sell children to traffickers in order to pay off debts or gain income, or they may be deceived concerning the prospects of training and a better life for their children. They may also sell their children for labor, sex trafficking, and illegal adoptions. In cases of adoption, most would say the younger the better." He shrugged, comfortable in statistical acceptance.

"Well irregardless of the reasons, one fact remains the same. Someone out there is targeting children, young girls, and women, and selling them to the highest bidder. The only positive thing we've got is that because they're being sold, they're most likely all still alive... at least for now. That said, there's no guarantee that they'll remain that way. The Unsub or Unsubs, almost got caught so right now, they've gone to ground until they figure out what to do next. We also have to face the very real possibility that they may just decide to cut their losses and start over somewhere else. We need to find out where they've been taken and who's buying them. So what do we know?" Hotch questioned his team.

"We know they've been collecting them for over a year, so there's has to be a place somewhere in Virginia where they've been able keep them all this time. If we figured out why these particular girls we might be able to pinpoint where," Emily offered.

"Well I can tell you one thing, this Unsub may not have a preference for age, but he definitely has one for looks. All the victims have either Blonde or Red hair. There's not a brunette in the bunch," Derek ascertained. He'd been starring at the screen in silence trying to wrap his head around what was happening.

"Chances are that means one thing. They're being chosen for International distribution. It also means that our window of opportunity just got a whole hell of a lot smaller. If the Unsub gets these girls out of the country, our chances of getting them back has just gone from slim, to absolutely none. We need to find out if those girls are still in the States and fast." Rossi's words galvanized the team into action and they began the grueling task of narrowing everything down, hoping to finding a lead - fast. 

**A/N: A small glossary of the abbreviations used in this chapter:**

******LEO** – Law Enforcement Officer, **DEA - **Drug Enforcement Agency, **ATF – **Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, **Unsub –** Unknown Subject

**Below are the sources from which our lovely, fact spouting, Dr. Reid got his information and statistics on human trafficking.**

^ _**a**_ _**b**_ ./trafficking/

Economic Roots of Trafficking in the UNECE Region - Regional Prep. Meeting for Beijing+10 - pr2004/04gen_

/ More4 / Ghosts / Stop the Traffik campaign

Council of Europe says human trafficking has reached 'epidemic proportions' - Europe - International Herald Tribune

.?NewsID=25524&Cr=trafficking&Cr1


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: My apologies to all my faithful readers for the chapter delay. I tried to change my story's direction when it appeared the last chapter was not received as well as the previous ones and struggled with it for far too long. So instead, thanks to the wonderful words of encouragement I received, I decided to turn back to my original path and here is the result. I hope you enjoy!**

**CW**

It was during cases like this when Derek missed having the unrivaled computer skills of his Goddess at the team's disposal. They tried, but they couldn't yet bring themselves to permanently replace her, even with Strauss on Hotch's case to do so. When you've had the best, it was next to impossible to settle for less. It pained Derek to admit that maybe if they had, the new analyst would be here now and just maybe, they might be a little further ahead. Maybe. Just because someone was computer savvy, didn't automatically mean they were good enough to find a viable lead for the team to use. But it looked like this time, they were going to have to take that chance and pull someone from the tech pool to help out. Glancing at his watch, he rolled his eyes and groaned. He knew it would be at least another hour before they could get someone in. Time was running out and they weren't any closer to finding the missing women and children then they were when they started.

With a heavy sigh, Derek grabbed his empty cup and went to get some more coffee. They were working on their third or was it fourth – pot and he'd lost count of the amount of cups he'd consumed, but right now it was the only thing keeping him going and he'd take what he could get. He leaned against the counter with a freshly filled mug wrapped in one hand, his other stretched out along the edge of the counter. Staring sullenly at the dark liquid, he was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear Emily come in, or when she called his name. She finally resorted to a light hip check to get his attention and only his quick reflexes saved them both from wearing the hot drink.

"Oops, my bad!" Emily said without an ounce of believable remorse.

Derek stared at Emily like like she'd grown two heads. "Okay who are you and what have you done with Emily Prentiss?"

She made a face at him and then sighed, before scrubbing at her face with both hands. Blowing out a breath, she rubbed her arms briskly. Then with a sheepish grin she met his questioning eyes. "I guess I'm feeling a bit hyper because of all this caffeine in my bloodstream without the benefit of food to tamper the effects. I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin and not in a good way."

"There's a good way to feel your skin crawl? You know Prentiss, I don't think there's too much caffeine in your bloodstream, I think caffeine has completely replaced every drop you ever had. I also think finding you some food has just become a matter of national security."

"Very funny Morgan, this from the man who turned drinking coffee into a religion and the coffee pot his temple to which he bows and prays with reverence."

With a small self-depreciating smiled he shrugged, knowing she was right. "As far as deities go, it's never let me down so until it does, I'll happily keep right on praying." He could detect the slight bitterness in his words the second they left his lips, but he made no effort to apologize or retract them. Instead with his coffee in hand, he left the break room and returned to the Conference room with renewed determination.

A half hour later Reid jumped up from his seat and strode over to the board, his actions grabbing everyone's attention. His eyes ran quickly from picture to picture, his fingers and lips moving silently, but at a rapid pace.

"You got something Kid?" At this point Derek would gladly take anything Reid could offer and run with it.

"Yes, I don't know, maybe..." Reid began, his mouth trying catch up to his thoughts.

"What is it Reid?" Hotch mildly demanded.

"I was just noticing that aside from the twins, that every girl and woman is a different age," Reid began, almost absentmindedly.

"We already knew that, so what`s your point? Victims are rarely the same age. Maybe in the general vicinity of each other or a specific age group, but most often not the same age unless it's accidental," Rossi stated.

"Yes, ordinarily I'd agree, but this is different. There is exactly three years difference between each victim. And I'm talking exactly as in almost to the day. They were all born in the same month." He turned and looked expectantly at the group.

"Could explain why these particular victims were chosen. Something about that month might be the Unsub's stressor. In what month Reid?" Hotch asked.

"Umm... in July, but not only in the same month, Hotch. All the victims' birthdays fall in the first week."

"That's pretty specific, Reid. No wonder these abductions have taken place over the course of a year. It would have taken an inordinate amount of time to find not only victims with specific features, but to find ones of specific age and birth date? That's not just a case of patience. That's obsessional to the max," Derek stated slightly stunned. "With that kind of level of specifics, I'm surprised the Unsub didn't take even longer then he did."

"Maybe he did," J.J mused aloud. "Just because these victims were matched from the DNA found in the container, doesn't mean they were the only ones or that there isn't more victims. Who knows how long the Unsub's been at this."

"She's right. Christ, we wouldn't have even known about these victims if it wasn't for that raid. The thought that there could be more women out there being sold off to the highest bidder is enough to turn even my stomach." Prentiss gripped her pen in her hand and pressed the curled fist to her lips in a bid to control her anger.

"Well boys and girls, it looks like we've finally got ourselves a honest to goodness, bonafide lead," Rossi said.


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay so let's break down what we know so far," Hotch commanded.

"We know that the Unsub has a degree of instrumental aggression because he's being rewarded with payment for delivery each and every time he delivers a 'shipment'. Chances are the victims did nothing to provoke the Unsub into choosing them - that we know of, and they definitely weren't a matter of convenience, given what we discovered about the birthdays," Emily began.

"When we look at the victimology there's no links, no DNA or detectable signature left at the abduction sites. No connection to each other except for the two hair colours and relative birth date." With the tip of his pen, Derek tapped out a light rhythm to his words onto the pad of paper in front of him. Throwing down his pen in frustration, he got up from his seat and stood beside Reid in front of the board, his fingers now laced together at the back of his neck. They were missing something. _He_ was missing something. The problem was there was a difference between knowing something was missing and knowing what that something was. And right now, he had no clue. With his gut churning in anxiety, Derek continued to stare at the pictures as if by doing so, he could will the answers to suddenly appear. "So how the hell is he finding them?"

"I need a map." Reid said suddenly and he turned away to pull over another empty board. J.J. quietly pinned an open map to the new board, already understanding where he was going with his request. Before he could ask, she started calling out the location addresses of the abduction sites while he began marking them on the map one by one. Then he started numbering them based on abduction dates. Then he picked up a different coloured marker. "I also need their home and work addresses."

Before he was done, the team could already see a pattern emerging. It began with the second victim, Siobhan Kelly and continued right up to the last abduction victim, Bethany Kraft. At the centre of the pattern was the single dot of the first victim, Christina Marx, who to their shock, worked in their building on another floor.

"Looks like we just found a place to start. She wasn't just the first victim, but also the oldest right?" inquired Rossi.

"Yes she just turned 38 just before she disappeared," answered J.J.

"That's kind of old for this type of abduction isn't it?" questioned Emily.

"Depends on what she's being sold for. For sexual purposes or slavery, it wouldn't really matter as long as she could keep up with the physical demands. From the initial police reports and from what little we can see in her photo, at the time of her abduction she seemed to be both healthy and fit. Looks wise, she could have easily passed for at least five years younger," replied Rossi. "When the analyst arrives, we'll run her and see what pops. My gut tells me she's the key."

"Healthy and fit..." Derek muttered as he stared at Christina's photo. Recognition suddenly dawned in his eyes. "Wait, wait, wait, I _know_ her. She signed up for a bunch of my self-defense classes a couple of years ago. It didn't click until J.J. said she was working here and you started talking about her being fit. You're right Rossi, I would have never pegged her for late 30's and I'm a pretty good judge of age. And let me tell you, although slightly skittish, she was the best in my class and put every guy there to shame. She was both strong and had lighting reflexes. There's no way an ordinary guy would have been able to overpower her."

"Morgan, can you remember anything else about her? Which department she was in, maybe how long she was working for the FBI?" asked Hotch.

"Not really Hotch, it was a couple of years ago and I've taught a lot of classes since then. I rarely strike up any conversations about more then the class itself, unless they approach me after class with specific questions." Derek rubbed at the back of his neck as he strained to recall more information. "She was quiet, kept to herself, and was always gone the second class was over. The only reason I even remember her is because I kept wondering why she wasn't teaching classes instead of taking them - she was that good, at least technique wise. All I could come up with was maybe it was a confidence thing. The only other thing I remember was that she didn't wear a wedding band, but had a tan line on her ring finger. At the time, I never questioned it or gave it a second thought because I just assumed she took it off for class, but maybe it was because she was recently separated or divorced. It would definitely go a long way to explaining why she kept taking self-defense classes when she clearly didn't need them. Especially if it was a particularly nasty break up. And it could in turn have something to do with why she's missing now. If she _is_ the key, that's definitely the first person we need to be looking at."

The last of his words were punctuated by a sharp knock on the door. When J.J. swung it open, you could have heard the single beat of a humming bird's wing in the absolute silence. Derek's knees buckled and he was forced to swiftly grab onto the edge of the table or fall to the floor in a trembling heap. In that one explosive moment, he swore he felt his heart falter and come to a complete stop.


	9. Chapter 9

"Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to report here this morning. I'm Angelique Deville, your new analyst." When no one replied and only continued to stare, Angelique's face heated with embarrassment and she gripped her laptop closer to her chest. "I... I'm s-sorry, I must have got the department wrong. Pardonnez-moi...forgive me."

Hotch recovering from his shock first, quickly spoke before Angelique could leave. "No, no please, come in. You're in the right department. I'm Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. Welcome. This is Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Dr. Spencer Reid, and Derek Morgan. Please, take a seat."

Angelique shook hands with her new boss and simply nodded in response to the rest of the team's introductions. Everyone was still staring rather intently at her, making her feel very self-conscious and nervous. She hated when she was nervous - she tended to slip into her native French and generally made the situation worse, so she kept her lips pressed tightly together, especially when her gaze met the dark eyes of one Derek Morgan. He was hands down, one of the most attractive men she'd ever had the pleasure to lay her eyes upon and he was looking at her like she was the last woman on earth. It was as unsettling as it was thrilling.

After everyone took their seats, she realized the only open spot was beside none other than the gorgeous Derek and she nearly groaned aloud, her stomach plummeting to her feet in anxiety; a buzzing nest of nerves taking its place. Keeping her eyes averted, she quickly slipped into her seat and promptly began setting up her laptop. Luckily, she was a quick study and it only took minutes for her to get caught up to speed on the case. Her fingers began to fly with lightning speed across her keyboard as she began initiating searches and chasing down relative information faster then they could ask.

Once his heart restarted, his eyes never left her face. Derek couldn't help himself. The resemblance was uncanny. Except for the dark green eyes and light French accent, she could have easily passed for his Baby Girl, right down to the red hair and ruby lips. He lingered on her eyes before ghosting down to her cheeks, and then over to her nose. When she lightly bit down at her bottom lip in concentration, his eyes darkened perceptibly, zeroing in and locking on her parted lips like a heat seeking missile. For the second time in less than 15 minutes, he felt his heart falter in his chest.

Angelique purposely kept her eyes firmly on her task, but no matter what she did, she could still feel his probing stare. Instead of making her uncomfortable like it should have, it carried with it an air of excitement and made her feel something she couldn't quite put into words. Unable to help herself, she glanced up and her eyes were instantly captured and held by his deep chocolate-brown gaze. She was completely mesmerized as she not only watched, but felt his eyes slowly trace over her face like the gentle caress of a lover's fingertips. Her heart fluttered madly in her chest, her breathing slightly erratic, and still she couldn't look away. A ping from her computer finally broke the magical spell he'd woven over her. She visibly swallowed and turned back to her computer, calm immediately ensuing at the information on her screen.

"My, my, my what do we have here? I do believe Ms. Christina Marx has been a very naughty girl. Until three years ago, as far as I can tell, she never existed. No paper trail of any kind whatsoever. Then suddenly here she is in all her glory and working for the FBI. Imagine that." Angelique smiled slyly at her new teammates.

"So in other words, she's either on the run or part of witness protection," Rossi mused.

"Or both," Emily added. "But how did she come to work for FBI without raising anyone's suspicions? We all undergo fairly stringent background checks and yearly routine lie detector tests. Even if she somehow managed to cover up her background and was able to keep it a secret, how did she pass those tests every year? And why the FBI? If I was going into hiding, I can think of thousands of places I'd work before choosing FBI. That's quite the risk to take when you've got something to hide."

"Or no where better. To me, it'd be a lot like hiding in plain sight. If you're scared and on the run, being in a building surrounded by hundreds of Agents sounds like a pretty safe place to be, especially if it's the last place anyone would ever think of looking for you," Derek paused before quietly adding, "Besides when it comes to hiding your past, I'm living proof you can work here and still be able to accomplish that, depending on how deeply it's buried. As for the tests, if they don't ask you anything pertaining specifically to your past, you wouldn't have to lie, therefore nothing to detect."

"Yes, but Derek, we're not talking about an expunged record or events in your past you didn't share. We're talking about an entire past being wiped off the grid without leaving a trace. To accomplish that takes huge skills or an even bigger bankroll," Emily insisted.

Their words had Angelique glancing at Derek speculatively, her eyes alight with curiosity. She wondered what secrets his past held and her fingers itched to dance along the information super highway to quench her thirst for that knowledge. Viciously she clamped down her natural urges, instinctively knowing that if she went down that path and he found out... she shuddered and let it go before even finishing the thought. Instead, she put her curiosity to far better use and with renewed vigor, she began traipsing back into cyberspace, ferociously intent on finding something on the elusive Christina Marx. "Fear not mes amis, Ms. Marx can run, but when it comes to the superior hacking skills of Angelique Deville, the days of hiding her past are over."


	10. Chapter 10

Derek couldn't stand it any longer. He couldn't focus, he couldn't think. Hell he could barely breathe. He had to get away to regroup, if only for a few minutes. Without a word, he stood and strode out the door. He went down to the break room and began to pace like a caged animal.

"It's enough to knock you for quite the loop isn't it?" J.J.'s soft voice brought his head up and he stopped pacing. She was leaning against the open doorway, her eyes filled with understanding.

"That's the understatement of the year. I feel like I've been in a head on collision with a Mac truck – twice. Christ J.J. she looks just like her! When you opened that door, I thought I was seeing a ghost. My heart literally stopped. I just about lost it right there in front of everyone." Derek ran his hands over his head and began to pace again.

"Derek we all felt that way, not just you. How do you think I felt? I was the one who was standing right beside her. If I hadn't been so stunned and she hadn't spoken first, I would have threw my arms around her and cried like a baby."

"J.J. I can't take my damn eyes off of her and I can't think about anything else! She's got me tied up in knots both inside and out. How the hell am I supposed to work with her? Not only does she look like her, right down to her choice of lipstick, but her mannerisms are identical to Pen's too. I know they say everyone has a doppelganger, but I mean what the hell are the chances that Pen's would be right here in this building, working the same job with the same skills, for the same damn company?"

J.J. could literally feel the force of his frustration and an almost panicked desperation, radiating off him in waves. She knew how hard all this was hitting her, so she could only imagine how much more Derek was going through. The incredible friendship she shared with Penelope paled pitifully in comparison to what her friend had experienced with Derek. No two people could or would ever be closer. What the two of them shared went far beyond undefinable. Unique only to them – and never again to be replicated with such intensity. Any words she could offer to him would be empty, hollow, and meaningless.

"Astronomical actually. I'd have to calculate the numbers specifically to give you an actual figure, but suffice it to say it'd be extraordinary odds." Reid walked into the room on the heels of Derek's last comment, followed closely by Emily.

"So I take it everyone feels as blown away by this as I do," Emily stated rhetorically as she grabbed a chair and plopped down into it.

* * *

Angelique looked up to see the entire room cleared aside from Hotchner and Rossi. Stunned, she said the first thing that came to mind. "I see I haven't lost my ability to clear a room."

Catching the slight hurt in both her eyes and voice, Hotch decided he better take the time to fill her in on what was going on with the team. "Angelique, it's not you, believe me. It's who you look like."

"Sir?"

Rossi took up where Hotch left off. "The analyst who worked for this team before you ... well how can I put this delicately... she was lost to us last year. She was with us for years and we were all very close to her, especially Derek."

"So because you lost your analyst, I'm going to be either stared at like some side show freak or treated like a local leper until this case is closed? Why don't you just call her back and beg her forgiveness?"

"If only we could." Hotch sighed. "Angelique, what Dave was trying to say was that we didn't lose her like you think. She didn't willingly walk away from us. She died last year."

"I..I don't think I understand. What does that have to do with me?"

"Wait here. I think in this case a picture is definitely worth a thousand words." Rossi got up and left the room. Seconds later he was back with what looked like a framed photograph. He looked at it and then at her and shook his head in amazement. Handing her the picture, he sat down and waited patiently for the fall out.

Confused, but curious, Angelique took the photo from him and glanced at the picture. At first she still didn't understand. It was a picture of the team at some party or function. She saw both of the gentlemen in front of her, J.J., Emily, the young Doctor and Derek, all smiles. Then she noticed the woman wrapped in Derek's arms and the picture clattered to the table, falling from her suddenly numb fingers.

"Th.. that's me! What.. who...just how the hell did you get a picture of me and why would you photoshop it into a group photo of your team? Somebody better damn well tell me what the hell is going on!" Her eyes darted frantically from one man to the other.

"Angelique, calm down. That's not you. That's Penelope Garcia – our last analyst." Hotch declared evenly. "As you can see, the resemblance is as unmistakable as it is unbelievable."

"Ce n'est pas possible! I mean this is not possible... I'm sorry sometimes I revert to french when I'm nervous or stressed."

"Impossible or not, it is what it is. You my friend, are like Garcia reincarnated and it's shaken the entire team to it's very core."

Angelique lightly traced her fingertips over her own face smiling back at her. She was having a hard time coming to terms with something staring her right in the face, so she could only imagine how hard this was hitting this team. Looking up she asked the question that needed to be spoken aloud.

"Where do we go from here?"


	11. Chapter 11

They were all seated around the small table in the break room trying to decided on the best course of action, with the least amount of fall out. By way of mutual, unspoken agreement, they knew it was Derek that would be the most adversely affected by any decision they made, so they were leaving the final decision up to him.

"So what are we going to do guys?" A concerned J.J. asked quietly, her small hands wrapped loosely around a fresh cup of coffee, and her shoulders hunched slightly in worry. Normally she had no problem deciding on a course of action and following through, but this time she didn't feel the decision was hers to make, at least not alone. She directed the question at the group, but she looked at Derek for a solution.

"I'd be lying if I said I was sure I could do this. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I can. She just reminds me too much of what I've lost... what we've lost, and I already feel like I'm back to square one and she just got here. And what happens when the job is done and she leaves? It'll be like losing Pen all over again and by God, I won't go through that again. I just can't." He bit out, the last three words barely a whisper, his eyes deeply troubled in remembrance.

Derek knew his words were harsh and unyielding, but it was the truth and he wasn't going to hide behind lies in order to to do his job or prevent someone from getting their feelings hurt. There was more than his career riding on all of this. His very sanity was at stake. When Penelope died, she took part of his soul and all of his heart with her. He knew with absolute certainty if he had to go through this past year again, he wouldn't make it out the other side whole a second time. As it was, part of him was already afraid it might be too little, too late.

"Do I get a say or have I already been voted off the island?"

All four heads turned towards the entrance and Derek inhaled sharply. One glance of her was like a sucker punch to his gut and it stole his breath away, each and every time. If he'd questioned his decision for even one moment, he couldn't ask for more potent proof that he was right. Everyone else seemed a little uncomfortable and a bit lost for words, so he took it upon himself to try and explain as gently as he could.

"Look Angelique..."

"Angel. My friends call me Angel for short, or Devil from my last name, if you prefer," Angelique said with a small half-smile, her eyes somewhat mischievous.

Outwardly he gave no sign of the inner turmoil caused by her words, other than a quick flex of his cheek muscle when he clenched his jaw against bombarding memories. Not only was her smile the same smile Pen often shot his way over the years, but combined with her offer to use one of their shared nicknames, and it was nearly his undoing. Three words crossed his mind. Oh _hell _no!

"Angelique," he started again, watching the light fade from her eyes and the smile falter on her lips, with his continued use of her full name. He got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, needing something to focus his attention on while he talked so he wouldn't have to face the disappointment written clearly on her face. "This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with us."

"The hell it doesn't," she stated quietly, deceptively calm.

"Excuse me?" His head whipped up to look at her incredulously.

"This has everything to do with me and saying otherwise won't make it any less true," she replied succinctly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

"You shouldn't go around commenting on things you know absolutely nothing about, little girl," Derek practically growled. He turned to face her, leaning against the counter and crossing his own arms in return. You could see the intimidating flare of heat flow into his eyes, a tell-tale sign he was beginning to get angry and it was at this point that most people backed off, knowing not to push him any further.

Unfortunately, Angel wasn't one of them. Instead, she scoffed at him, not intimidated in the least. J.J. tried to interject knowing she was treading on dangerous ground, but Angel just raised one hand without even glancing in her direction, effectively silencing J.J.'s budding protest. For whatever reason, Angel's wrath was focused on Derek and Derek alone. Emily and J.J. looked at each other before grabbing hold of a protesting Reid and slipped wordlessly from the room. For some reason, call it woman's intuition, they instinctively knew this was something the two people in the break room needed to privately settle amongst themselves.

"Oh that's where you're wrong _Agent_ Morgan. I'm actually quite the expert on this particular subject." Angel carried on completely unaware the others had left them alone.

"I don't..." Derek began, but Angel didn't let him finish.

"All my life I've been judged on my looks or lack there of, so don't you _dare_ tell me that I don't know when my looks are playing a mitigating factor in a decision being made about me. Do I look stupid to you?" She began to advance slowly toward Derek, her hands now clenched into tight fists at her sides.

"That's not..." Derek tried once more, only to have her interrupt again as if he hadn't spoken.

"Because if I do Morgan, I for one, don't have much faith in your profiling abilities. I am neither stupid nor am I naive. Believe me when I say, I'm fully aware that you don't want me here because of what, or rather who, I look like – consequences be damned. I knew it from the second I walked through the blasted door and that was only solidified when each and every one of you hightailed it down here at the first available opportunity. I just didn't know the exact details which Agent Hotchner and Agent Rossi were kind enough to rectify for me just a moment ago, after you all jumped ship. And to some extent, I get it, really I do. But what I don't get is how you're all willing to walk away and risk the lives of 13 women and children just to ease your own damn pain and discomfort. Don't you even care?" The end of her tirade brought her toe to toe with Derek, her chest slightly heaving with the force of her emotions.

Angel's cheeks were flushed with anger, her eyes were spitting fireworks in Derek's direction, and all of a sudden all he could think of was how beautiful she looked when she was angry. In that single moment, the heat in his own eyes tumbled over from ire to arousal and he became hyper-aware of the her body heat as she stood invading his personal space. When his eyes unconsciously focused on the fullness of her crimson lips, all rational thought was lost along with all sense of propriety and self-control, both flying out the proverbial window in the face of his unforeseen desire. Before he could stop himself, his hands were framing her face and Derek began greedily drinking from her intoxicating lips, completely losing himself in their texture and taste.

With the first unexpected touch of Derek's mouth, everything else faded away entirely forgotten, and Angel was unable to do anything else other than surrender herself over to the total magic of his kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

"You're so damn beautiful." When he was finally able to break contact with her mouth, the husky words slipped out past Derek's lips in a tone born of part reverence, and part awe. He pulled back far enough to gaze into her eyes and she could see the sexual want still radiating within the deep brown depths. His thumb began swiping softly back and forth across her kiss-swollen lips of its own accord and he dropped his eyes to watch the subtle movement with rapt interest, looking very much like a man with his last meal set before him.

Though meant as a heartfelt compliment, his words were a douse of ice water, effectively putting out the flame of Angel's arousal in less than a heartbeat. She sprung back away from him and out of his arms like she'd been burned, the immediate lost of his body heat causing a shiver to run along her body and she rubbed her arms in automatic response.

"Penelope..." Derek began soothingly, automatically reaching out for her. She looked like a frightened animal ready to bolt and he instinctively felt the need to pull her back into the protective fold of his embrace, not even noticing the damning verbal slip.

"Don't... don't you touch me." Angel hissed at him and she raised her hands in front of her to ward of his advances. She wasn't sure if she was more angry or hurt hearing him call her by that name. She felt equal amounts of shame and betrayal flood her body when she bitterly realized it wasn't her that he kissed. No he kissed the woman she looked like and she was nothing more than a poor man's substitute for the real thing.

Derek was stunned at the obvious venom in her words, given what they just shared. No doubt it was a mistake that would haunt him deeply after she was gone, but it didn't deserve the amount of animosity she was currently throwing his way. He stepped forward only to have her equally retreat like he was a disease and she was immune deficient.

"In case you need for me to spell it out," she started when she could see the obvious confusion on his face, "My name is _Angel__,_ not Penelope and no matter how much I may look like her, I'm NOT her so you can just stay the hell away from me from now on and keep your damn hands to yourself. And let me tell you another thing Derek Morgan, you suck!" She whipped around and fled the break room faster then if the Devil himself were on her heels.

Her words were like a verbal slap of painful remembrance from when Penelope was shot. Then recognition dawned making him realize exactly what he just inadvertently done. When he was kissing her, he was kissing Angel not Penelope, but when she stood there looking so frightened, she reminded him of his Baby Girl so much, his mouth verbally filled in where his eyes left off without conscious thought. He closed his eyes in self-disgust and simply let her go. At a much more sedate pace, he made his way back up to the Conference room. He just screwed up royally and he had no idea how he was going to fix it.

* * *

By the time Derek entered the room, she was sitting in front of her computer typing away furiously. It only took a moment for him to realize she was now flanked on either side by both Hotch and Rossi, so he wordlessly took a seat in between Emily and J.J., studiously ignoring their questioning glances and covertly watching Angel from beneath hooded lids.

Angel could feel his eyes on her and she cursed this sudden ability to do so. Redoubling her efforts, she blocked him and all that happened downstairs from her mind and in a few minutes she was rewarded with her efforts. "YES!"

"You got something Gar... Angel?" Hotch's slip didn't go unnoticed by anyone, least of all Angel, but she let it go as if it had.

"Oh yes I do, Sir, yes I sure do. It seems that just before his death, one U.S. Marshal Sam Kassmeyer racked up an inordinate amount of frequent flyer points to Florida. Daytona Beach to be exact."

"And that means exactly what to us?" Rossi asked unsure where she was headed with this information.

"Well Sir, normally that wouldn't mean anything except I was able to track both his incoming and outgoing calls. Every time he was there, he either received or made several calls to the same number. The number belonging to one Candi Lansky," she finished triumphantly.

"Do I even want to know how you just managed to bypass every safety precaution ever devised by the US Marshall's Office to prevent that very thing from happening?" Hotch quietly inquired, but Angel was saved from answering when Rossi spoke.

"Lansky...Lansky, I know that name. Where have I heard that name before?" he pondered aloud.

"You should, Meyer Lansky was Jewish Mafia and along with his partner Charles 'Lucky' Luciano, he was Florida's most elusive Crime Lord right up until his death in 1983. He was also accredited with being instrumental in the creation of the National Crime Syndicate. The FBI was never able to convict him of any crime and though on paper he died a penniless man, he was believed to be worth over $300 million. However, no money was ever found," Reid declared.

"But how is that connected to our case?" Emily asked in confusion. She looked around the table, but it was clear that every one else was just as much in the dark and just as clueless.

"Please allow me to enlighten you. If you would please be so kind as to look at the screen in front of you." With a look of utter glee on her face, and a few clicks of her fingers, a slightly younger picture of Christina Marx appeared on the screen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you, Candi Lansky."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm so very sorry for the delay with this chapter. The team was not talking to me or each other, for that matter, and I finally had to call a team meeting to hash it all out. It took a lot of bullying and a whole lot of cajoling, but they finally opened up and I hope you like the results of our little chat. ENJOY!**

* * *

"She'd have to be his great-granddaughter I'm guessing. Well that changes everything, now doesn't it?" Rossi murmured, tapping his finger against his mouth thoughtfully.

"How so?" J.J. asked, her head tipped slightly in question.

"We were thinking of her in terms of being a victim, but given her family connections, she could very well be the one running the show instead," He replied.

"You aren't saying you honestly think that a 38 year old woman could be heading up a human trafficking ring, are you?" Emily questioned, not because she discounted the feasibility, but more the likelihood.

"While it's true that chances of the Unsub being female are statistically unlikely, we can't disregard the possibility. In the 1950's Meyer Lansky formed a friendship with Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista and the Mob was basically given a blank check to run all the rackets in Cuba - especially the gambling casinos, prostitution, and drug smuggling. Then from Cuba, Lansky spread his gambling and prostitution rackets to other South American countries. Who knows how many of those connections still exist or what they've evolved into. Not only was Candi related to Lansky, but she also worked right here in the FBI. If she had high enough access, she would've had an impressive database right at her fingertips, so finding potential victims would've been both fairly easy and convenient. And other than her gender, she fits the profile," Reid added quickly.

"Na,na,na, I don't buy it Kid." Derek shook his head, totally rejecting the theory. "This girl was way too much of a shy wallflower to be the mastermind behind something this complex, this ruthless. I don't care who she's related to."

"Morgan, we can't deny the possibility. You said yourself there was no reason for her to be taking self-defense, that she was good enough to teach it," Hotch commented.

"Yeah sure Hotch, she could fight. I'm not denying that. But we're talking defensively. She didn't display no where near enough aggression to be even remotely capable of being in charge and running something like this. The women she took would have to have a hell of a lot more than just a healthy fear of her, in order for her to keep control over them all this time. There's no way she has the kind of dominant personality it would take to pull this kinda thing off undetected. And what about the Marshall? If she was running this show, where does he fit in?" Derek declared, his slouched demeanor relaxed and at ease with his presented opinion.

Trusting Derek's judgment and recognizing the validity in his arguments, Hotch began looking at things from another angle. "So assuming she's not in charge, what's to stop her from having a dominant partner, or from being coerced into helping for that matter? That would go a long way in explaining her signing up for defense classes she didn't need. If she felt she had no say in her life, this would be the only part of it where she could feel in control. Still doesn't explain Marshall Kassmeyer's role in all this."

"Now that's an idea I can get behind," Emily agreed. "To me, that goes a lot farther towards tying up more of the loose ends and jibing with the woman Morgan remembers. If she's being forced, maybe Kassmeyer put her in Witness Protection and her past caught up with her?"

Rossi nodded in agreement. "If that's the case, we need to find out why she got put in the program in the first place. If she's testifying against someone or already did, and who?"

"What's still nagging at me is the significance of the birthdays and the three year age gap between the victims. It's another reason why I don't buy Candi as being behind all this – her birthday falls in the same week as the rest. If she was the Unsub, why would her birthday date be like the rest of the vics? It's obvious the date holds some sort of importance to the Unsub. It's got to be the stressor. At some point, something had to have happened to this guy in the first week of July for it to play such a major roll in all the abductions. Otherwise, it doesn't make sense. No,no, we're missing something here." Derek linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair even farther, raising the front end off the floor, his eyes focused back on the murder board. Something was niggling at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Actually, not all of them have a three year gap," Reid commented. "There's a six year gap between Candi and Siobhan Kelly. Odd really, since the rest are exactly three years apart, give or take a day or two."

"I am so changing my birthday and shaving off a couple of years," Angel declared with a shiver.

J.J. turned to look at her. "Why would you want to do that?"

"My birthday is July 7, I'm 35, and a redhead. I fit right in with this pretty little pack. That's enough incentive for me."

"You're perfectly safe Angel, he's already past your age a year ago, and not likely to change patterns and go back," Reid observed.

The front of his chair came crashing back down hard with a loud bang and had everyone's head turning sharply in his direction. Reid's words had Derek looking at Angel, then at the board, and then back at Angel. His heart began beating a mile a minute and he suddenly couldn't seem to catch his breath. He shook his head in denial, as his mind raced to try and find another explanation, _any_ other explanation. But it was laid out, right there in front of his face, tacked to a murder board. And sitting not a foot away was his missing piece.

"Son of a bitch!"


	14. Chapter 14

At Derek's unexpected outburst, Hotch glanced at Rossi for a clue as to what this was all about, but he just shrugged his shoulders, at as much of a loss as Hotch. He turned back towards Derek. "Morgan, what is it? What's going on?"

"Call it a hunch. One I'm about to prove or disprove," Derek replied softly, almost absentmindedly, without looking directly at Hotch. His eyes remained overwhelmingly focused on Angelique, and her alone.

"I beg your pardon?" Angel couldn't help wondering what it was that he thought she did this time. Derek was looking right at her while he cursed aloud and his gaze hadn't wavered one iota since. He might be mad at her for what happened downstairs and her reaction to it, but surely he didn't have to swear at her to prove it. And just what else was he planning on proving or disproving anyway? Her face paled as he began to advance slowly, but purposefully towards her.

Taking her questioning comment as rhetorical, Derek decidedly ignored it and continued his progression around the table. When he reached her side, he took hold of her chair and spun her away from the table, until she was facing him directly. Crouching down to her eye level, he kept his hands locked tightly onto the arms of her chair, and surprise had her taking more than a moment to realize he was effectively blocking her in with his muscular arms. Still, she knew unequivocally if she wanted to leave he would let her, but that didn't stop her from physically reacting to his nearness with both fear and heated awareness. Because his face was now only inches away from hers, she took the opportunity to study his features, her eyes searching for anger, but all she found was a quiet intensity. The rest of the team and the room faded as soon as he began to speak. His rich voice like liquid honey, decadently flowed over her body like an intimate caress, and incidentally drew her eyes down to the lips that heated her own just a little while ago. Her reaction was as instinctive as it was instantaneous and her eyes darkened of their own accord.

"Angel, I need you to listen to me very carefully and please just answer my questions without asking any questions of your own. Just for now. I swear I'll answer all your questions when I'm finished. It's important and I promise you'll understand when I'm done."

His finger slipped beneath her jaw to gently lift her gaze, allowing Derek to lock eyes with her. She could see without words that he was asking her to trust him. She didn't know why, but she did, deeply, unequivocally, and without reservation. She took a steadying breath before wordlessly nodding her compliance, unable to deny him this simple request.

"Do you remember where you were before coming to Quantico?"

Angel wasn't sure where Derek was going with his query, but she already agreed to answer, no questions asked. "Of course. I came here from France... Paris, to be exact."

"When?"

"About nine months ago, give or take."

"Why?"

"Why?" She parroted back, baffled by his question."

"Why did you come to the United States."

"I... I got a job offer to work for either Homeland Security or the FBI, but after working with Homeland for the past seven months, I realized it wasn't for me and I chose the FBI instead."

"How did you get that offer?"

"In France, I worked for an high level international security firm that deals strictly in computer and database security and software. It was my job to hack undetected into the computers and databases of top notch organizations in order to find any vulnerable points of entry. Then, if I was able to get in, we'd work with them to tighten up their security. I managed to breach both Homeland Security and the FBI, not completely, but further than any one has ever gotten before without detection. As you may have already noticed, I've got mad skills." A wide smile accompanied her last comment. She was beyond good and proud of it, but her smile faltered when his face remained passive and unresponsive.

"Where exactly were you born Angel?"

"Paris. I've lived there all my life."

"Can you tell me the name of a childhood friend, any friend, prior to this last year?"

She paused, her brow furrowing before answering. "Umm... Sorry I can't seem to think of anyone right off the top of my head. You'll have to let me think about that for a minute."

He was positive it wouldn't matter how much time he gave her so rather than wait, he pushed on with more questions. "How about before you started working for your company in France? Can you tell me where you went to school, where you grew up, how you got your mad hacking skills? Anything?"

She opened her mouth to reply to the simple questions, but suddenly found she had no immediate answer. She closed her eyes trying to think, but her mind was completely blank. In panic, her eyes flew open and latched back onto his. "I... I don't know. Derek, how can I not know?"

He studied her face closely and wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms when he saw the minute she realized she couldn't answer his questions, and then he watched as her lost eyes filled with tears. He closed his eyes in a brief battle for control. When he opened them again, he partially gave into his wants by taking her chilled hands into his. As he held them securely in his warm grip, his thumbs lightly traced comforting circles on her skin. Now came the hardest part. If he was right, her world was about to come crashing down. If he was right, so would his.


	15. Chapter 15

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**A/N: I have been sick this week with a horrific headache that wouldn't let me write on the computer for more than a few minutes at a time before making me feel sick. Because of that, it has taken me an extrordinarily long amount of time to write this chapter and I profusely apologize for the horrible delay. I'm still not 100% better, so please expect further delays, although doubfully this long. Perhaps every other day instead of every day. Hopefully the chapter was worth the wait.**

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The room was crushingly silent, much like the weight of being underwater for too long and Angel longed for a cool, crisp, breath of air to draw deep into her aching lungs. Judging by the prickling sensation dancing madly across the back of her neck, the entire team was focused on her and Derek, but not nearly as focused as she was on Derek herself. Looking into his eyes, she knew something momentous was about to happen and with the way her gut was churning, she highly doubted it would turn out to be something she was going to like. An unwanted bomb of catastrophic proportions was about to be dropped on her – she could feel it, and it terrified her beyond belief.

Derek could see the stark fear in her eyes and in the trembling of her bottom lip, just before she captured it with a small nip of her teeth. Following his instincts, he reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear and then brought his hand over to rest gently on the side of her face, hoping to calm some of her nerves with his touch. His thumb swiped softly back and forth over her cheek, the repetitive and soothing motion beginning to work. Part of him wanted to be wrong, wanted to not have to be the one who was going to turn her life upside down. But another part him, the more selfish part, was experiencing a thrilling balancing act between trepidation and exhilaration that awoke something in him he thought long dead and gone. He'd found a fallen Angel, his fallen Angel, dropped back into his empty arms seemingly by God himself. There was no easy way to do this, so he'd have to settle for straightforward instead.

"Angel, you don't know because you can't remember something that never happened. Your past doesn't exist, you don't exist... at least not as Angelique Deville." She didn't believe him, he could see it on her face. She didn't _want_ to believe him and who could blame her. If someone were to try and tell him he wasn't really Derek Morgan and that everything he'd thought to be true was all a lie, especially someone he'd known for less than 24 hours, he'd call them crazy and then call it a day. The difference was he knew that what he was saying was the truth, he could prove it, and he would. The only problem was his proof was not of who she wasn't, that would take time, but more of who she was – who he believed her to be.

"Morgan, it can't be. It's just not possible. She's dead, we saw it happen ourselves, damn it we buried her!" Emily exclaimed after immediately piecing together what he was saying, though it came out barely above a whisper. Her wide eyes looked from the pair in front of her to the rest of the team, where she saw her stunned disbelief mirrored on each of their faces. Out of all the things Morgan could have said, this wasn't even on the table for consideration.

"Tell me, what exactly did we see Prentiss? We buried an empty casket because we were told there wasn't enough of her left to bury. We were presented with a no-conceivable-way-to-survive accident scenario, that in our grief not one of us doubted or questioned for even a second. What if that's what they were counting on?" Derek challenged bitterly.

"Morgan, we had no reason to question anything. It was a gas explosion in her apartment. We left her place not ten minutes before. Whose remains would they be if not hers?" Rossi stated the obvious, but yet, part of him was beginning to doubt.

"Christ Rossi, just look at the abduction time line. We thought there was just a larger gap between the first and second victims, but what if there's not. Her birthday is July 7, she's 35, a redhead and she disappeared a year ago, and that matches right in line with the time gap and just way too much of a damn coincidence to share with Angel on top of her looks. I know I'm right. Damn it you guys stop looking at it like it's impossible and start looking at it with an open mind. Everything fits - she fits. I'm telling you, it's her! She's Penelope!" Derek declared with heated passion.

Angel threw her hands up to her ears and her eyes swept over everyone in absolute horror. "No. No! NO! Just stop it! Why would you say something like that to me! Just what kind of person are you? I'm sorry you lost your friend. And I'm sorry I look so much like her, but you can't use that to try and make me _become_ her. I'm not her no matter how much you want me to be and no amount of lies will convince me otherwise!" She jumped up and pushed past the now standing Derek, heading straight for the door, but his steely, clipped words stopped her cold.

"Last year, you were shot and the bullet tore into your chest and ricocheted into your stomach before exiting, giving you two scars. Directly below the scar on your chest, you have a small birthmark in the shape of a heart and inside that heart, you had the initials D.M. tattooed just weeks after your shooting. You were angry with me the day you got shot and you nearly died on the operating table. You told me you got it done to prove that no matter how mad you were at me from that point forward, I'd only have to look at it to know without a doubt that I would always be forgiven and be forever in your heart, even if... even if you couldn't tell me yourself."

His voice now heavily layered with a multitude of emotions, faltered slightly with the last sentence. He had to swallow hard to gain some control before pushing ahead, but his words still came out slightly gruff. "Tell me I'm wrong Baby Girl and I'll gladly let you walk right out that door and never look back."


	16. Chapter 16

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_**A/N: I'm so sorry for the long delay with this chapter. I could not upload it because of all the problems with the site this past week. Everytime I tried to update the story or send PM's the site would boot me out telling me to log back in. I could do nothing but sit and wait for the site to be back up and running properly. The last couple of days seemed to be almost back to normal, so I decided I'd give it one more day to make sure the site was completely glitch free. However, in that day I ran into combative issues in the forums section of the site, which had me having to step back for an additional day to get rid of the all the toxic and vicious negativity thrust upon me, so it would not be reflected in my editing of this chapter and writing of the rest of this story. My deepest apologies for needing to do that and forcing my loyal readers to wait for this chapter. I truly hope you find this chapter worth the wait. I'd suggest because of the delay, you might want to go back a chapter or two to refresh the storyline in your mind before continuing on with this chapter, but of course, that is only a suggestion and up to you. :-)**_

ps - Thanks to everyone for their wonderful PM's of support, you know who you are, and HUGE thanks to PO and H for surrounding me with all your good vibes every day while I cursed the site and negative people. Luvs ya lots and lots! xoxo

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_It's not true, I know who I am damn it!_

The thought screamed violently inside Angel's head as Derek's words landed direct hits to her fragile thoughts and memories, fracturing off pieces of them one by one. Her whole life like a water balloon riddled with pin-prick holes; the liquid centre that made her who she was, beginning to slowly trickle out. No matter how much she wanted, she couldn't completely deny the truth behind his words, but at the same time, couldn't fathom how he could possibly have such intimate knowledge of her body - sight unseen. The thought had her heart taking off, racing like an unbroken steed thundering towards the promised freedom of an open gate. Her hand moved to her chest of its own accord, as an unforeseen heat suddenly sparked from within its beating centre and fanned out from that single focal point. It traveled from the molten core of her inner being to the outer most layer of her now sensitized skin, in mere seconds. Sweat began to bead across her upper lip and along her hairline; her mouth now sand-dry like the Mojave Desert. Then Derek spoke again. Her already weakened water balloon gave way and burst.

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_Baby Girl_

Her head started to spin and she closed her eyes to try and regain her equilibrium, mildly disoriented by the sudden and inexplicable feelings evoked by those two simple words. Instead, distorted and tangled images materialized behind her closed lids, flipping from one impression to the next, too quick to allow her to fully grasp entire content. She pressed her fingers tightly to her temple in a feeble attempt to stem the onslaught, but the pictures continued to flow faster and faster, rushing through her mind like a movie clip stuck on fast-forward. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed, Angel couldn't seem to catch her breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't swallow. Her knees buckled a bit and she had to drop her hands to the table for balance, leaning heavily against it for support. Ensuing panic had her ripping open her eyes and like magic, the cascading images faded away to nothingness in less than a heartbeat. She slowly released a shaky breath before sinking gradually into nearby chair, but kept her eyes cast downward, not wanting anyone to see how badly Derek's words affected her. She sensed movement beside her and she knew without looking that it was Derek and she braced herself accordingly. Within seconds, self-preservation had her viciously yanking herself back under total control once more... at least on the outside.

"Baby Girl..." He began gently, crouching down beside her once more.

"Don't. Don't call me that. Not now, not ever. My name is Angel. You call me that, or you call me nothing at all." She raised her head with the last sentence and her cool, hardened eyes met Derek's shocked ones head on, without waver. Her stoney gaze didn't match the calm and docile tone of her quietly delivered words, but nonetheless, made them entirely and unequivocally beyond contestation with just a single look.

Derek couldn't have been more stunned if she'd reached out and slapped him across the face, something his Baby Girl would never have done, but he couldn't say the same for Angel – not with any degree of certainty. Even at her most angry, Penelope's eyes never held that chilly level of control, at least never directed at him. Looking at Angel like this, she no longer bore any resemblance to Penelope Garcia. Seeds of doubt began to sow themselves into his head, warring for control with the conviction in his heart. He stared in her eyes for a few more minutes, searching for anything that would confirm or deny his supposition, but could only find carefully schooled blankness. He opened his mouth, part of him thinking for a split second of forcing her to prove him wrong, but in that moment he realized even if he was right, in the end it didn't really matter and he closed it again with an audible snap. Penelope was gone and in her place stood nothing more than a stranger with her face. Her body might be one in the same, of that he had no doubt, but the part that made her his Baby Girl no longer existed, rightfully buried a year ago along with his heart. His shoulders sank in somber dejection and defeat, the passion firing in his eyes moments ago fading to nothingness as he wordlessly nodded his compliance with her demand. Rising to his feet, he calmly pivoted on his heel and silently returned to his seat, the wall around his emotions once more firmly in place and higher than ever.

J.J. however, was furious and wasn't above letting it show. Incensed beyond anything she could ever remember being before, she fought hard for some semblance of restraint. She knew Derek and she knew he never made assumptions. If he was certain Angel was Penelope, then that was good enough for her. And if she wasn't sure before, Angel's reaction to Derek's words removed all doubt. What she couldn't figure out was why she was being deliberately cruel and why on earth Derek was letting her get away with it. Both attributes were in complete opposition of their natural personality traits. And in her books that was unacceptable and so was "Angel's" treatment of Derek. She'd be damned if she'd sit idly by and let someone run roughshod over her best friend... even if it was his former best friend and the woman he loved. It was past time she stepped away from her own peace keeping nature. Gone was any representation of diplomacy and tact. Without any hesitation, J.J. marched over to Angel's seated form and with one quick flick of her wrist, she spun her around, the fury in her words unmistakable.

"You listen to me and you listen good. I don't really care what you want to call yourself, and believe me when I say right now I have a few choice names for you myself, but as of this minute, you are _done_ calling the shots. Last time I checked, you worked for this team not the other way around. We have 13 women and children missing and a case to solve in order to get them home safe and alive. Your true identity plays a major role in making both those things happen. The FBI retains fingerprints of each and every employee, past and present. You are going to get the hell up out of that chair, keep your mouth shut, and you are going to come with me. We're going to find out who the blazes you really are, one way or another, and we're going to do it right now."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks to all my patient and loyal readers. This chapter has taken absolutely forever to write, not because I was blocked, but rather because nothing I wrote sounded right. It just didn't sound like me. For those of you who know about writing, each Author has their own 'voice'. That's what we call the certain way they write when by reading it, you can tell by the way it's written, who wrote it without having to be told and because all of us write differently than someone else, our 'voices' are always going to be different and distinct. When you've been writing for as long as I have, I can tell instantly when the writing doesn't fit with my normal style of writing. With this chapter I just could not find my voice. I even walked completely away for a few days, but tho much better, it's still off by my standards. To me, this chapter is not as well written as usual and for that I apologize, but I just couldn't keep my readers waiting any longer, so here it is - even if I hate it. Again I am deeply sorry for the wait. Hopefully the next chapter will be better.**

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The simplicity of J.J.'s solution and the absurdity that a team of profilers didn't think of it first, would almost be comical, if not for it being such an incomprehensible and deplorable situation. Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose in weariness as he took a moment to let everyone, including himself, gather their thoughts before refocusing on the case at hand. He knew that right now his team's thinking was clouded by emotions, along with a healthy dose of guilt and self-loathing thrown in – especially Derek. Lifting his head, he quietly studied him. Taking stock of his closed, but grim expression, along with the rigid body stature, Hotch had all the conformation he needed. Guilt was practically radiating off of Derek in waves and both plainly and painstakingly, eating at him from the inside out. This case was going to be a breaking point for Derek and if he didn't do something right now, Hotch was going to lose him for good. The whole team was reeling, and as the Unit Chief, he needed to pull them back in, starting with Derek. The others would automatically follow his lead.

"Morgan, if you need to be removed from this case, let me know now."

Derek's head snapped up in surprise, unconsciously leaning forward in a silent attempt to refute Hotch's words. "What? No! I'm fine. _I..am..fine,_" He insisted firmly when Hotch's stare didn't relax or falter one iota.

"Then shelve the guilt for another time and get it together, Morgan. I need your head in the game all the way, or not at all. I can't afford for you to be distracted, or for your judgment to be clouded with personal issues and emotions during this case." Hotch knew he sounded cold and harsh, but he also knew Derek. His words would come across as a personal affront and a direct challenge to his abilities, one Derek would pick up like the dropped gauntlet it was, and run with - if only to prove his worth and for no other reason.

"Hotch..." Rossi cautioned quietly, as he lay a staying hand on Emily's arm to silence the explosive outburst he knew was riding on the tip of her tongue. Emily swung her head in his direction and held her tongue, but neither man acknowledged him, too focused on each other to even notice his interruption.

A muscle danced along Derek's jaw in suppressed agitation, ticking twice before he finally leaned back with crossed arms, a barely banked temper blazing out from his defiant stare. "Hotch, I'll admit to this whole thing blindsiding me, but I won't apologize for it, or step away from this case voluntarily. If for whatever reason you think I can't do my job, you're going to have to take my badge and remove me yourself."

"Make no mistake Morgan, if that's what I thought, you'd already be gone," Hotch bluntly assured him.

The bold directness of Hotch's comments would have anyone else bristling with amplified indignation, but with Derek, they had an opposite and settling effect. By allowing Derek the option to step up or bow out, Hotch was essentially telling him that he trusted Derek to make the right decision and would only step in if absolutely necessary. That quiet confidence had the desired effect and snapped Derek back into focus. With a subtle nod of acknowledgment to Hotch, he stood up and took charge once more.

"Alright. Going on the presumption that Penelope was the Unsub's second victim, we've established a firm time line for the abductions as well as victim preference. Based on this information, it would stand to reason that he reached his quota for shipment with the abduction of his last victim, Bethany." He didn't miss the sideways glances, but he didn't care what anyone said. Angel was Penelope, and until there was proof otherwise, that's how Derek was going to refer to her.

"But the raid prevented the shiping from happening. So what, he's holed up somewhere with 13 women waiting? For what exactly? Another way of transport?" Emily questioned.

"His second victim," Reid said and all eyes turned to him.

"What are you talking about Reid? He's got 13 victims and if we go by the age, he's already reached the youngest he can go with this group," Rossi added.

"But he doesn't Rossi, don't you see? If we operate under the premise that Penelope was his second victim, he wouldn't have the 'complete set' for his shipment, with her gone. The question is how did she get away or more to the point, did he let her go? And if he did let her go, is he still seeking someone to replace her, or has he already found someone?" Reid looked right at Morgan when he spoke, letting him know with his choice of names, that he believed and supported him, unconditionally – a fact that did not go unnoticed.

"And if he's found someone, who? Reid's right. This Unsub is way too organized and far too compulsive to let her go without a reason, or if she escaped, for him to not try and find a replacement once he discovered her gone." Hotch leaned back with one arm folded across his chest and tucked into the crook of his other elbow, the other arm raised with his fist pressed loosely against his lips, and his thumb propped under his chin to hold it in place.

"This guy has the means to keep all these women and girls for a year without anyone knowing or anyone else other than Angel getting out," Rossi began, "I don't see how she could have escaped. No, no, he let her go. The question is why."

"Well for starters, she's not 35, she just turned 33." Puzzled stares prompted Derek to explain further. "Penelope told me once, the date was entered into the computer wrong when she started and I'm pretty sure she never got around to correcting it. Never gave it much thought until now. If he found out, it could explain why he'd let her go. He's both compulsive and obsessive enough for that to be a huge deal to him."

"Well that would give us the why, but still doesn't answer everything else. Like how did he get her to not only forget her abduction, but her entire life as she knew it? And not only to forget, but implant a whole other life and memories in its place. That seems way too sophisticated for your average Unsub of this nature. Unless we're operating under a wrongful assumption and she's not who we think she is." Emily ignored the hard look Derek shot her, determined to be the voice of reason. She wanted Angel to be Penelope as much as anyone, but if they were wrong about her, a whole lot more than this case would come crashing down.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Once more I must apologize for the delay with this post. Turns out misplacing your flash drive with all your info, research, and story is a big no-no. *rolls eyes* Luckily I did eventually find it, but it put me behind big time. Couple that with my birthday on the 10th and the Death of a friend's little baby boy, Noah - just 3 weeks old - and well, time just got away from me. But hopefully things are a little more back on track and I'll be posting in much more regular intervals. Thanks for hanging in there with me and for the awesome reviews. Luvs ya all. {{HUGS}}**

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"Okay let's forget about what just happened with Angel for just a minute, because until she comes back with J.J., we can argue with each other until we're blue in the face and it won't change a damn thing or get us any further with this case. Right now we need refocus our energy, go back to where we were before all of this hoopla began, and start again."

"Dave's right." Hotch gave Derek a quick, but meaningful glance that spoke volumes, before turning his attention over to Reid. "Catch us back up Reid."

Without batting an eye and after less than five seconds of recall, Reid began reciting a short summary. "We discovered that Christina Marx, the first missing victim, is actually Candi Lansky; Great-granddaughter of Meyer Lansky, historical Crime Lord. According to phone records, she was in contact with U.S. Marshall Sam Kassmeyer in Florida approximately two and a half years ago, prior to her coming to work for the FBI. The name change and the association with him points to the probability of her being placed in the Witness Protection Program, just months before Marshall Kassmeyer's death. If so, his death so soon after her placement may also explain why she started taking self-defense classes with Morgan and why she kept mostly to herself. After learning of her connections to the Mob, we considered the prospect of her being the Unsub. However, given the apparent lack of a dominant personality, as well as other mitigating factors, we've since disregarded the probability. We were then beginning to explore the possibility of a dominant partner or coercion when Morgan had his revelation."

Hotch stepped in and picked up where Reid left off. "Right. Rossi, I want you to put in a call to the Tech pool and get us a T.A. we can borrow for the next hour or two. Lie if you have to. Meanwhile, we need to get our hands on Christina Marx's employment records and find out her exact start date, what position she held, as well as her clearance level. Prentiss, call J.J. and see if she can secure a hard copy of the personnel file while she's there. Morgan if you're right about Garcia being the second victim, we need to see if the Unsub found himself a replacement. Call your contact on the force and go back over Missing Person reports and cases with him. No need to go back further than a year, since that's the time frame for Garcia's return. Use our knowledge of preferential victims as a base and go from there. If he's taken someone else, that's our best chance for potential discovery, at least for the time being. We also need to know who filed the MP report when Marx disappeared - who knew her well enough in her new identity to count her as missing and not just gone. Reid, factor in Garcia as victim #2 and go over victimology again. See if it changes anything or if there's something we've missed. I need a working profile to send to the Alexandria PD, since they've got jurisdiction on the majority of the missing children cases, then to the rest of the involved departments, and I need it now. I'll put a call into the in the Marshall's office. I've still got contacts there and with Lansky missing for over a year, there's a chance they might be willing to part with information and details regarding her original placement. We're running out of time on this one people. It's only a matter of time before the Unsub finds another way to transport the victims and if he can't, he'll most likely cut his losses and begin again somewhere else. If he does, we'll lose him for good. Let's not give him the chance."

In a flurry of activity, the team set out on their given tasks and the clock watching began. It only took a few minutes for Dave and Emily to finish their calls and when done, they returned to the conference room to lend a hand with the profile. Rather than wait on her return, J.J. had Christina's personnel file faxed ahead to the department and they began adding the data to the board. Stepping back, Rossi began to verbalize the information before him.

"Christina Marx started out her illustrious FBI career, in the office pool as support staff two and a half years ago. In just two months she made a name for herself as the go-to girl for computer issues. After several recommendations, she was promoted and permanently moved into the Tech pool, where she was the T.A. shared by both White Collar Crimes and DEA, right up until her disappearance 14 months ago. My, my, that certainly puts her in a handy spot and with plenty of clearance, now doesn't it?"

"So it's conceivable she wasn't a victim after all. Do you think she was a mole and using her position to get information out to someone?" Prentiss asked, comprehension and plausibility filling her head with a dozen potential scenarios.

"It definitely fits, but if so, I'd like to know how she got past the routine lie detector test we're required to take every year. One of the questions asks if you've ever passed classified information to anyone, even your family, outside the Bureau. She was here for two years so she'd not only have to get through it once, but twice. She's either very good, or we're way off base."

"Trust me, we're not that far off base," Morgan interjected as he walked back into the room and right into the tail end of the conversation. "I just got off the phone with Nick over at APD and there were no other MP cases that we haven't already got. But I did find out who filed the MP report on Christina Marx."

"Something tells me by the look on your face that our job just got a whole lot more complicated," Prentiss surmised.

"You could say that. The person who filed the MP report for Marx was none other than our very own Penelope Garcia."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Sorry no internet for a few days... enjoy!**

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Angel wondered why it was always so difficult to get fingerprint ink off your fingers, even when you used a wet cloth. She smirked when it crossed her mind that it was almost like law enforcement agencies wanted to brand you as their own, no matter what side of the law you resided. While repeatedly swiping at her discoloured fingertips, she paused and had anyone been looking, they would've seen her face grow pale when she suddenly realized she _was_, in fact, branded. Or at least she would be. Today she'd be forever marked as either Angelique Deville or Penelope Garcia and in a few minutes, she'd either be leaving with her doubts erased, or her fears confirmed. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she discovered she didn't know which outcome she preferred. Before her tears could gain momentum and start to fall, she blinked rapidly and fought for control. She then turned towards J.J. and quietly spoke.

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to go to the washroom and wash the rest of this ink off my hands." Not waiting for a response, Angel stood and walked away, unaware of J.J.'s watching eyes.

Pushing past the door to the washroom, she immediately walked over to the row of sinks and began scrubbing almost viciously at her fingers. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and got control of her runaway emotions. As she rinsed her soapy hands clean, something in her reflection captured her attention. Raising her eyes a fraction of an inch, she realized what caught her eye and her hands stilled. Her body was partially bent over the sink as she washed, and it caused a small gap to open in her top. Through the opening, a small, blush-coloured shape was visible. Slowly she turned off the running tap and dried her trembling hands. With fumbling fingers, she undid the top button and gently pushed the fabric apart. There nestled just above the lacy trim of her bra, lay a heart-shaped birthmark... including the ornate script inlay at it's center. With a light touch of her fingertip, Angel softly traced the letters. They were of such artistic script and intricate design that she never even once considered they could be actual letters, though she still remained unconvinced that they were the D and M that Morgan claimed.

Abruptly, a cloudy image of a tattoo gun at her breast and pair of tightly entwined hands at her side, promptly flashed through her mind and it was gone before she could focus on the hazy details. It disappeared so fast, she couldn't even be certain it was her sitting in the chair, but no other explanation made any sense. Although the appearance of the image was startling, it was neither unfamiliar nor entirely unexpected. It surfaced each and every time she paid any attention to the marking on her chest, increasingly so in the last two months, but with never more detail than that one brief glimpse. This time, determined not to let the possible memory disappear again without a fight, Angel redoubled her efforts to remember the day she got the tattoo. It was something she'd been unable to do, even before Morgan pointed out her lack of other memories. The problem was she never told anyone, so she couldn't figure out how he even found out about it. But it was time for her to find out if he was right, one way or another. With Morgan's words still ringing in her ears, she closed her eyes in concentration and brought the fuzzy image back. Then she began to focalize her undivided attention on individual details, rather than the whole picture.

Gradually, the details began to sharpen and her heart rate sped up a few notches as a result. Now she could easily see the deep purple of a one piece bathing suit and a pair of worn, fraying jean shorts covering what was now without a doubt, her body. Draped casually over the arm of the chair was a gauzy, abstract patterned, blouse. At her side she was tightly gripping someone's hand for support, but the harder she tried to focus on who the hand belonged to, the blurrier the image became. Not wanting to lose the memory completely, Angel let it go and tried a different tact. Instead of focusing on what she could see, she decided to try focusing on what she could feel and hear.

Freeing her mind from the pressure of trying to see, she began to feel the sharp, stinging bites of the tattoo needle and could hear the buzzing of the gun's motor. With each tiny nip to her delicate flesh, her hand tighten its grip, and the grip was immediately returned by what was without doubt a masculine hand. A light smattering of kisses rained down on the top of her head when she turned her face away from the work being done to her body. Her cheek pressed reassuringly against the solid warmth of his chest, the accompanying scent of cologne both familiar, as well as instantly comforting and reassuring. At the same time, the scent frustratingly remained completely unknown and elusive.

Angel now understood why whenever she smelled that particular cologne, it always made her smile and brightened her day, yet simultaneously lit her candle and turned her page. But she still could not quite place to whom it belonged. It was obvious she knew the man at her side, but could not bring her mind to identify him by scent and touch alone. It was there tickling at her, poking at her, and nudging her from behind as it played a haunting game of blindfolded tag with her awareness. Quickly letting the wayward thought go for now, she cautiously eased herself back into the memory, surprisingly still within her grasp. Concentrating on her senses once more, she could feel a gentle and rhythmic glide of fingertips slide over her hair, before they brushed soothingly across her cheek. The deep timber of his voice made her shiver in awareness, pleasure, and even happiness, as he softly murmured calming and supportive words in her ear. Then he brought their joined hands to his lips before dipping his head to claim her lips for his own.

The kiss she felt had her lips tingling in complete remembrance, the simple words she heard had her eyes snapping open in full recognition, and she was thrust her back into the present with an almost painful and alarming jolt. Her mind's correlating image was now complete and in vivid, breathtaking Technicolour - the single memory now fully and electrifyingly intact. Angel didn't have to wonder who the 'he' was anymore. She knew the answer beyond a shadow of a doubt. She knew his smell, his touch, his voice. And she most assuredly knew his lips and his kisses. In fact, if that memory was anything to go by, it told her to believe he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Oh frack," She softly uttered.


	20. Chapter 20

"Garcia? You've got to be kidding me! My god this just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Emily sat down heavily in the closest chair and tried to come to terms with Morgan's news. Planting her elbows on the table, she propped her spinning head up with her fingertips, and rubbed circles on her temples. Her mind was reeling yet at the same time, it rushed forward at a frantic pace trying to put all the pieces together.

Beside her, Rossi was fairing no better. The bizarre twists and turns in this case would frustrate and try the patience of even the most seasoned agent, and David Rossi was no exception. Instead of answered questions getting them closer to a solution, the more answers the team unearthed, the more questions piled up in their place. With growing anger now both tangible and concrete, it saturated his words, his tone turning them acerbic. "None of this makes any damn sense! Why the hell would Garcia file a missing person's report for Christina Marx? Morgan?"

With a quick shrug of his shoulders, Morgan threw the manilla folder in his hands down on the table, and dropped into a chair. Running a hand along his jaw and across his mouth, Derek tried to come up a plausible reason as to why Garcia was involved in all this. He tried to remember if Pen ever mentioned Marx or if he'd ever seen the two of them together, but at the moment, he was coming up blank. Surely if she knew her well enough to file a MP report, he'd have seen them together at least once, especially given that he and Pen spent most of their free time together. Going back to the first time he met Christina Marx, Derek began methodically organizing his thoughts. Hoping it might help to jar something new from his memory, he decided to verbalize those same thoughts aloud to the team.

"Okay I'm going to say it's a safe assumption that at some point in time, Garcia and Marx met right here in this building, since it's what makes the most sense. So, let's start with plausible locations. Marx's personnel file says she was a T.A. right? So it's not inconceivable for the two of them to have met in that capacity. Or maybe they met after one of my classes. More often than not, Garcia used to wait around for me on class nights if we had plans to hang out afterwords. There would have been plenty of opportunities for her to strike up a convo with Marx. Garcia is a friendly, affable, and non-threatening person. She also has the ability to spot and befriend those she calls wounded birds, no matter how high their walls. And if Pen decides she wants to be your friend, it's only a matter of time before she is, no matter how hard you try otherwise."

"So what's your point, Morgan?" Rossi couldn't help but let some of his impatience colour his words.

"My _point_ Rossi, is that the places and times they could've met are practically endless and the reasoning behind their budding friendship easily benign, so realistically speaking, there's really no merit in looking at things from that angle. Hell guys when you think about it, we all could've met her at any given time if given the right opportunity, and for no other reason then because we worked in the same building. The fact of the matter is Garcia is exactly the type of person who'd not only befriend someone like Marx, but would also think it was her duty and obligation to look out for her, especially if she knew there was no one else in the girl's life. That said, the fact that she knew her isn't what's yanking on my chain right now. What's bothering me is not the fact that Garcia knew her and didn't mention her not even once, which granted for her is strange enough in itself, but more that she didn't come to any of us _after_ reporting Marx missing. Even if it was to do nothing more than express concern about a friend or to find out if there was anything else she should do. So why didn't Garcia say anything not only to me, but to anyone?"

"Morgan's right. PG was the first person on the team to welcome me with open arms and I willingly walked right into them, even though my first instinct when meeting new people is to hold them at arms length. She's just got the kind of personality that screams 'you can trust me' and you do, without a second's hesitation," Emily reasoned.

"Trust. Maybe it's as simple as that," Reid mused aloud.

"What do you mean, Kid?" Morgan turned away from Emily and faced Reid.

"Guys, what if it's as simple as Christina Marx asking Garcia to keep their friendship quiet? What if Marx told her the real reason she was here under the explicit condition of keeping it a secret? That would explain why she never told us anything about her. Garcia would never betray a friend's trust, at least not willingly. The missing person report was probably a case of her concern finally outweighing the promise of silence, since according to Marx's file, she stopped coming to work three weeks prior to the MP report. And if the time line and all our supposition about Garcia's involvement is correct, she went missing herself in the following month, just one week after filing the report. That means she wouldn't have had time to tell any of us anything before being taken."

"Makes a helluva lot more sense as anything else we've come up with so far," Rossi agreed.

"And it's about to make even more sense, and believe me, not in a good way. I'm afraid our case just got a whole lot more complicated." Walking in the conference room, Hotch's words rang both ominous and forbidding, his face little more than a grim mask. "According to the Federal Marshall's office, before being placed in the Witness Protection Program and becoming Christina Marx, Candi Lansky was a certified and practicing Hypnotherapist in Daytona Beach. Right before she went missing, Candi was about to turn State's evidence and testify against her twin brother, Casimiro Lansky. You may know him as Judge 'Cut 'em loose' Caslansky, the Federal Appeals Court's youngest and newest Judge."


	21. Chapter 21

Hotch's news stunned the team into silence. After a moment Rossi cleared his throat and was the first to say what he knew was running through everyone's mind. "Well boys and girls, it's safe to say we've got our work cut out for us this time and frankly, I'm not sure how we're going to get around this one."

"A Federal Judge? UN-freaking-believable." Morgan shook his head in disgust. "Hotch, if a Judge is somehow connected to all this, how the hell are we going to get any kind of court approval to do what we need to do? Or warrants for that matter. Never mind doing it all without alerting the bastard to our every move. The guy's gotta have more connections than a nest has wasps, and guaranteed they'll be just as territorial and swarm just as quickly, if we start sniffing too damn close to their home."

"Morgan's right. We can safely assume that if we go shaking any branch of this particular tree a little too hard, we're going to get stung - repeatedly." Rossi crossed his arms and met the eyes of his teammates. "If we're going to catch him, we're going to have to play our cards closer to the vest than we ever have before."

"Well that's a cheery thought." Emily made a face as their words danced nasty images of swarms through her head. Giving herself a mental shake, she faced Hotch. "So what can we do to ensure we'll stay flying under Caslansky's radar while we build this case?"

"Well for starters, we have no choice but to go it alone as much as possible," He began. "That means not only no help from the media or the public, but also anyone outside this team, or even outside this room. We have no way of knowing who is and who isn't in the Judge's pocket. If we aren't careful enough and Caslansky has the power and connections we think he does, not only will we lose any chance of finding the victims, but it'll most certainly spell the end of our careers too. Before we go any further, I need to know right now if you're all okay with that possibility. Once we get started, there's no going back."

"Hotch, I can't speak for anyone else here, but I couldn't live with myself knowing I didn't do everything humanly possible to save those women and children. No job is worth someone's life. If they want my job, they can come and take it, but until then, I'm sure as hell not going just stand by and make it easy for them. I'm all in."

Morgan's solemn and heartfelt declaration was immediately followed by the unanimous agreement of each team member, and it made Hotch feel incredibly blessed and proud to be a part of this team.

"Alright then. Let's get started and get these people home to their families."

* * *

_Derek Morgan_

Angel's heart beat a wild staccato inside her chest and she audibly expelled a hiss of air, as her head swam with the knowledge. It didn't matter how much she wanted to deny it.

_Agent Derek Morgan_ _was the man in her memory. But how can it be?_

Even as astonished by the revelation as she was, it was painstakingly apparent that all along her heart had inexplicably known he was telling her the truth, even though her head adamantly refused to believe it. It also explained why she was so fiercely and intensely attracted to him from the first moment she laid eyes on him. Not to mention how she was able to kiss a man she'd known for less than an hour, so heatedly and without an ounce of reservation, and then feel the sharp sting of rejection and hurt so acutely when he called her by another woman's name. It was obvious they had a history together. But it was a history she couldn't remember.

Angel's bottom lip quivered and she wanted to cry. Not because her discovery made her feel particularly sad, but more because she felt both incredibly confused and utterly alone. It'd only taken her seconds to realize that aside from the last five minutes of remembrance, every last thought in her head from the past year, was somehow nothing more than a murky product of a carefully designed fabrication. Her friends and family, her memories, her whole life. And going by the conversation within this particular recall, that included her clearly nonexistent french accent too. All of it - all lies. Her eyes began to fill with unshed tears as she stared hard at the face in the mirror. But no matter how hard or how long she continued to stare, now that she knew the truth, it remained the face of a stranger. In her mind she might know her real name, but past one single memory, she still didn't have a clue about who she really was.

Hidden behind the wall that separates the inner bathroom from the entrance, J.J. silently peered around the wall's edge, just enough to observe Angel's actions undetected. Without qualm, she was up and following Angel, seconds after hearing her vague and halfhearted excuse. From the first tentative touch of her fingertips to the now tearful display, J.J. witnessed it all. She didn't have to be a profiler to know the woman staring so intently into the mirror, was hurting, deeply lost, and no doubt feeling particularly vulnerable. She also knew that based on everything she just saw, the woman standing before her was her best friend, Penelope Garcia, and she didn't need a test to tell her what she could see with her own eyes.

J.J. could feel her own eyes welling up and she sharply pulled back around to the other side of the wall, taking time to pull herself together. After a few deep, but quick breaths, she slipped out of the washroom as silently as she came in. With renewed purpose in her step, she strode over to the analysis unit to get their results and get them NOW. No more waiting, no more guessing. _She _may not need the fingerprint analysis to confirm her friend's identity, but her _friend_ did.


	22. Chapter 22

"You swore to me that she'd never know. That you were the best. You lied. I don't tolerate liars."

"I didn't lie. I'm telling you, she doesn't know. And I _am_ the best." She blew out a defeated breath and began to pace, tired of having to constantly justify herself and always having to pay for other people's mistakes.

"Then how do you explain the BAU's involvement? Why are they looking into this? Why are _they _even involved at all?"

"Because that's what _they_ do." She stopped pacing long enough to thrust her hand into her hair, gripping and yanking at the strands, trying desperately to control her anger and frustration. It was a losing battle. With every word that left her lips, her voice began rising in volume and annoyance. "They would have never become involved if your 'shipment' container wasn't found on that raid. The raid I tried to warn you about, but you refused to listen. What did you expect, that the cops would be too stupid to figure out what you were really shipping or that they wouldn't bother calling in the big guns? Of _course_ the BAU would be called in after the DEA opened it up. You had _children_ in there. You can't possibly blame me for that! And if it wasn't for me, you would've never gotten everyone out and hidden before the police got there! Hell if you'd listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't even be having this damn conversation!"

"I suggest you get better control of that smart mouth of yours before I decide I'm no longer a gentleman and take care of it for you. I'm going to say this to you once and once only, so pay very close attention. I don't give a rat's ass _why_ they're here. My point is they are. And now they're not only nosing around, but coming dangerously close to ruining everything I've worked for with their interest. Both their continued presence and the delay of shipment, has my buyer getting very nervous and threatening to back out of our extremely lucrative deal. For your sake, you better hope that doesn't happen. It's your job to take care of the cops and if you don't, I'm going to take care of both you and your precious brat. Permanently. She'd go for a wonderful price on the black market, don't you think?"

She never thought a calm tone of voice could invoke such intense fright, but this one did, and far more effectively than anything she'd ever encountered before. It did because not only was it deceptively calm, but it was also completely devoid of any and all human emotion. Involuntarily, she tightened the hand holding the phone's handset and she unconsciously curled the other into a clenched fist at her side. Digging deep, she pulled out one last ounce of rebellious resolve, determined not to let her fear govern her decisions. Determined to gain back just one ounce of control.

"How do I know you haven't already sold her?" She knew her words were spoken more with false bravado than any real kind of courage, but she had to try just the same. The mere thought of her daughter being sold to the highest bidder had her body trembling with the prospect. A growing fear began flooding her system, overriding and flushing out all previous traces of anger. She clamped her lips tightly together as she internally fought for control of her unruly emotions. And based on what was said next, without a doubt the bastard knew it.

"Simple. You don't."

"Then why should I keep helping you? Let me talk to her. Prove to me she's still alive or I'm done here." Her continued defiance had her expecting an fiery explosion of profound magnitude, but although the responding words were cruel, violent, and savage, they were only second in intensity to the degree of coldness in which they were delivered. Compared to that, the molten heat of reciprocated anger was far more desirable. Instead, the voice she got was a tone filled with pure emotionless ice and it froze her from the inside out faster than a kiss of liquid nitrogen.

"Those are very brave and very stupid words for someone in your, shall we say... delicate situation. Who is it you think you're talking to? You need to learn your place and you better learn it quick, you smart-ass, mouthy little bitch. Let me remind you, you're in absolutely no position to be making demands. ANY demands. I _own_ both you and your snot-nosed brat. And I will continue to own you until the day you die. Your ass belongs to _me _and I'll do with it as I damn well please, for as long as I please. I make the demands around here, not some know-it-all, cop whore like you. You're less than nothing to me and the only reason either of you are still alive, is because up until now, you've been useful to me. Here, the rules are made by me, not you, so I suggest you stop trying my patience. This is your last warning. Just shut the hell up and start doing as you're told, when you're told, before I start sending your daughter back to you, piece by piece – but not before I've let each and every one of my boys take a crack at her first. I'll even make sure to tape you a copy for your viewing pleasure. Am I making myself clear little girl?"

"Y-yes, yes. Please, oh God please don't hurt her. She's just a little girl and has nothing to do with all this. Please, I'll do whatever you want. I swear I will. Just don't hurt her." She now knew without a doubt that nothing she did would ever gain her or her daughter their freedom. The last remnants of that dream were officially quashed for good. Now her only hope was to keep her daughter safe and unharmed.

"Silly, silly girl. I told you. You'll do what I want you to do and when I want you to do it, whether I hurt her or not. And make no mistake, if you dare defy me again, nothing you can even imagine in your worst nightmares will compare to what I'll do to her for real. The sooner you get that through your head, the better off you'll both be."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Once more I need to aplogize for the delayed update. I have been packing and moving all by myself this last week and a half, so it took a lot longer than anticipated to be able to write a new chapter for my awesome and faithful readers. But have no fear, this story MUST be done by the end of the month. Thank you so much for your continued patience! And now on with the story! ENJOY!

**A/N 2: **_Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for our first Profiler's Choice CM Awards on the Fanfiction site! Help us choose the best of the best of the Criminal Minds stories on FF, and let your voice be heard. Anyone with a account is eligible to nominate. Please check out the nominating ballot and rules at Chit Chat on Author's Forum. Just click on the _**Criminal Minds Forum **_located above, then on _**Chit Chat On Author's Corner**_, and then on _**Profilers Choice CM Awards 2010**_. There you'll find all the rules and where and how to cast your nomination ballot for your favourite CM FanFic!_

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After drying her tears and splashing her face with cool water, Angel felt a little more in control. She always believed that talking things out somehow made everything easier to deal with, even if the only person you have to talk to is yourself. Her slight smile gave way to a small frown when she felt a slight niggling nipping at her after that thought crossed her mind. She sighed sadly as she wondered if that was how the rest of her life was going to be – every thought making her feel like she was forgetting something important.

"It doesn't matter girlfriend. You are who you are and no amount of wishing is going to change that fact. Suck it up Princess."

With her pep talk finished, Angel took one more cleansing breath and was ready to face the world once more. When she exited the washroom, the first thing she noticed was J.J. sitting quietly and waiting right where she'd left her. Only now, she was staring down at a large envelope laying on her lap and plucking nervously at the red string loosely tying the opening flap closed. Angel's steps faltered as her mind immediately connected the envelope with what was undoubtedly it's contents. Squaring her shoulders she walked towards J.J. and once again at her side, she was unable to stop herself from voicing the unnecessary question.

"Is.. is that it?"

J.J.'s head snapped up at the sound of Angel's unsteady voice. Immediately seeing the apprehension blanketing her face, J.J.'s eyes softened in both sympathy and understanding. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if she was in Angel's shoes. Finding her throat clogged with emotions she couldn't quite define, she was only able to nod in affirmation. Suddenly J.J. realized how harshly she'd treated Angel in the conference room, when all she'd done was try and preserve what she believed to be true to a bunch of strangers. Strangers that were essentially saying she didn't exist. Tearing her eyes away from Angel's troubled face, her gaze fell back to the manilla envelope on her lap. Such a small thing, yet within its thin walls, it held the power to change a life, several lives, irrevocably. The problem was for the first time, J.J. honestly didn't know if it would be for the better. Up until now, she believed Angel would be better off knowing who she really was. Now she wasn't so sure.

"So you know?" Angel asked softly as she sat down. When J.J. shook her head, Angel shot her a confused look. She'd been certain that the moment her results were in, J.J. would've dove in with both feet.

Seeing her confusion, J.J. cleared her throat and with a subdued voice, began to explain her hesitation. "To be perfectly honest, I'm fairly certain I already know what we're going to find when we open this up. I just thought that maybe you'd want to see the results yourself first before facing the rest of the team. I'm pretty sure that either result is going to knock you for a bit of a loop and I figured you might not want want to find out in front of everyone. Was I wrong?"

Angel trembled slightly when her mind pictured having to stand in front of the team and face their reaction to the results. "No you weren't wrong. I just never thought I had the option. But although I greatly appreciate your consideration, what's in that envelope doesn't matter to me anymore."

Now it was J.J.'s turn to be confused and more than a little stunned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. How can it not matter anymore? Don't you want to know for sure?"

"J.J., it doesn't matter anymore because I already know what it's going to say. I felt my emotions catching up to me and I went to the washroom to have myself a private mini melt down instead of a very public one out here. While I was in there, I had what I guess you'd call a flashback to the day I got my tattoo. Given who I remembered being with me that day, there's really only one person I can be. I don't know what to think or feel at the moment because everything is still a jumbled up mess and I still have far more questions than I do answers, but I don't need a piece of paper to confirm my own findings. But hey, if you got a handy-dandy rewind or do-over button stashed away in there somewhere, I'd gladly take that instead."

"Sorry I'm fresh out of those, but I can go you one better. I can offer you the support and friendship I should have offered a long time ago. That and a heartfelt apology for being so rough on you before. I was totally out of line earlier and I'm sorry."

"No J.J., you did the right thing. I was spiralling out of control back there and you yanked me back from the edge just in time. I should be thanking you instead. If anything I should be the one apologizing to you and the rest of the team. I said some pretty nasty things back in the office. Especially to Morgan. Do..do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"I guess that depends on whether or not you really want him to. Either way, there's really only one way to find out for sure."

Angel sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Maybe we better open that envelope now instead of later after all. I really think I need to make sure one way or the other before I face him. He probably hates me right now and to be honest, I'm not so sure anymore that I can handle this alone."

So engrossed in their conversation, they didn't hear or see his quiet approach until he spoke, his deep and gentle voice startling them both.

"Then how about if we handle it together. After all isn't that what best friends are for?"


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N: So I've been trying to post this chapter all day like I promised but the site wasn't co-operating. But finally I prevailed! WOOT! This chapter is almost twice as long as normal, but I just didn't want to stop the flow of the scene. **_

_**I dedicate this chapter to all my MG shippers who have stuck it out with me so far. This one is for you. xoxo**_

* * *

_Best Friends._

For some strange reason, those two words coming from Derek's lips caused a brief, but sharp pain, to radiate throughout her body. It made absolutely no sense and she certainly couldn't explain it, so she just pushed it to the back of her mind to deal with later. Right now, she had far more pressing matters to attend to, including the one standing in front of her. He might have accepted her identity as a given the moment his head connected the dots, but she just accepted the very real probability herself only minutes ago. She was still reeling and having him here wasn't helping regain her equilibrium one iota. Turning her head, Angel glanced nervously over to J.J. looking to her for some answers, but all she got was a shrugging of small shoulders in response to her unspoken questions. Taking a deep breath, she squared her own shoulders and turned back to face Derek. Fully prepared to take the proverbial bull by the horns, her words came out far sharper than she originally intended.

"Agent Morgan. Why are you here?"

She caught his slight wince and could see how her demanding tone stung him, but only for a second before he managed to carefully smooth out his features. Hurting him was never her intention and she felt bad about that, but at the same time she couldn't help feeling wary of his unexpected appearance. They didn't exactly part on amicable terms upstairs and the blow-up between them was still very fresh in her mind. And so was his reaction. Having him show up after the hateful things she practically screamed at him, left her feeling somewhat exposed and more than a little confused. She honestly didn't know whether his coming here was selfless act or a self-serving one. Perhaps it wasn't one or the other, but a combination of the two. Either way, it was obvious he was trying to make some kind of amendment and she knew she didn't deserve his olive branch.

"Please... call me Derek. Hell, go ahead and call me an ass if you need to, but don't use my job title as a shield between us. Not here and not right now. I'm here because I want to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything else can wait. Besides as the saying goes, if the Mountain won't come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the Mountain, right?" He could see the wariness in her eyes and as unrealistic as it was, it pained him to know she didn't trust him enough to accept his offering of help without looking for an ulterior motive.

"Fair enough. But no matter what I call you, I still don't see why would you even _want_ to be here. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but to be honest, you're absolutely the last person I'd expect to be standing in front of me right now. Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve it. I was so horrible to you..." Angel's voice trailed off and she forced herself to look into his eyes, not knowing what to expect.

Derek sighed and offered up a ghost of a smile, but his eyes remained sad. "Look Angel..."

"Penelope. My name is Penelope. I may not remember anything else, but we both know that's exactly who I am, don't we?" The name felt so foreign on her lips, but at the same time looking into his eyes, she couldn't deny there was a rightness about it too.

Before he could say anything in response, J.J.'s phone rang, drawing their attention away from each other and directly on to her. Picking up the call, she quietly walked away from the pair, with a quick look of apology. With a gentleness she'd forever associate with him and him alone, Derek reached for her hand and linked their fingers, effectively bringing her attention back to him before he spoke.

"You haven't seen your results yet. What changed your mind?" He asked softly, the tightness around his heart easing just a bit when she didn't pull her hand away.

"Truthfully? You. And what you said. I guess it caused a memory, a real one, to finally surface long enough and clear enough to see you by my side. Seeing you here now, I kinda get the feeling my side is a place you frequent more often than not. That said, I've just decided I'm going to take full advantage of that fact right now and find out my fate for once and for all."

With a small squeeze of silent support from his fingers he released her hand, allowing her to open the envelope. Her hands shook so badly she was having a hard time unwinding the string that held the envelope closed. With a gentle touch he stilled her fumbling fingers, causing her to look up at him once more.

"I need you to listen to me. No matter what these papers say, no matter if you're Penelope or whether you're Angel, I'll still be here for you either way for as long as you need me to be. You know that right?"

When she nodded, relief evident in her eyes, he released her fingers and let her try to open the envelope again. His words had the desired effect and she calmed down enough to make short work of the task. Carefully, she slid out and then scanned the paper inside. When she looked up at him, he reached up to cup her face and ran his thumb back and forth across her check in a light sweeping motion, wordlessly giving her the strength she needed to speak.

"It says.. it says you were right. My fingerprints are a match. I'm Penelope Garcia," She whispered with a touch of awe in her voice. With their faces so close, she could see her words and lack of disappointment removed all the shadows of sadness from his eyes, leaving them suspiciously bright. But the one thing she was looking for was nowhere in sight.

"You're relieved, but not surprised, not even a little. I can see it in your face. Somehow, you always knew. Just like you knew I'd need you here with me. How is that even possible?" She wondered aloud.

"I didn't... at least not consciously anyway. My head just kept getting in the way by constantly telling me it wasn't possible. But I think my heart knew right from the start. If not from the start, at least from the moment we kissed. That kiss had the power to shut my head down long enough for my heart to take over the wheel. In fact, I wasn't even aware I called you Penelope until you pointed it out. And I guess once my head was finally on the same page, there was no going back. As for me being here for you, I honestly tried to stay away because you made it perfectly clear that was what you wanted, but I made a promise to you once. I promised you that I'd be there for you everyday, for the rest of my life. I never break my promises, especially not to you. And believe me when I say, there's no place on earth I'd rather be." Unable to resist any longer, he brought his other hand up to her face and placed butterfly kisses on her forehead, her cheeks and lips before releasing her only long enough to pull her tightly into his arms. He just had to take a moment to thank God and prove to himself that this wasn't just a dream. To prove that he got his Baby Girl back.

Both his genuinely sincere declaration and reaffirming actions brought tears to her eyes and a lump in her throat, but they were happy tears, relieved tears. And as terrified as she still was, it was an incredible feeling to know that there was someone who would be there to help her make it through it all and would be at her side every step of the way. He'd even been willing to do so if she'd turned out to be Angel and not Penelope, a fact that meant so much more to her than she could ever say. If anyone had told her yesterday she would lose her life as she knew it, but gain the most incredible and perfect man as a best friend in the span of less than twenty four hours, she would have undoubtedly had them committed. But even so, that wouldn't change the fact that they were right and that what they said was true.

Only one thing marred her new found happiness. It was the part of her that niggled and poked at her every time the words Best Friend and Derek came within spitting distance of each other in her mind. Then the answer came to her in a flash of clarity. The term bothered her because they were obviously more than that... they had to be. If he was just her best friend, they wouldn't have shared the kind of kiss they shared in the break room. If he was just her best friend, she wouldn't be standing here wanting him to give her a repeat performance right now. No, there was definitely more to all this than he was letting on and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. But for now she willingly snuggled deeper into his strong embrace, where for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was finally where she belonged. She felt like she was home.


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N:**_ _INCOMPLETE_ has been nominated by my readers in 2 Catagories, Best Garcia/Morgan Fic and Best Team/Case Fic, in the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds 2010 Awards. I'm unbelievably touched and honoured far beyond words. All I can say is **THANK YOU** to my truly amazing readers from the bottom of my heart, for nominating me and my story.

I have pasted where to find the information for the final voting below. Please remember that all votes must be submitted by ******November 30, 2010 at 11:59 PM EST **to be counted.

**FINAL VOTING HAS STARTED FOR CM FANFIC AWARDS!**

**Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for our first Profiler's Choice CM Awards on FanFicton. net! Help us choose the best of the best of the CM stories on FanFiction, and let your voice be heard. Anyone with a account is eligible to vote. Please check out the final voting ballot and rules at Chit Chat on Author's Forum. All rules and information are on the forum.**

We've provided separate posts for the **final voting ballot** and the **complete set of rules. PLEASE READ THE RULES BEFORE VOTING SO THAT YOU WILL KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO SUBMIT YOUR BALLOT!**

* * *

_When the vibration on Derek's hip signalled an incoming text, his body instinctively braced itself and tightened knowingly. He knew without even looking at his phone who the message was from. Following an almost primordial and inherent need to protect, while he'd been out of the room earlier, he'd called in a personal favour to insure he was notified the moment her test results were in. Now that they were, his emotions and common sense were raging an internal battle and for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what was the right thing to do. Penelope or not, he had a deeply ingrained need to be there for her, one that normally overrode all else, but given their last exchange he doubted she'd appreciate anything coming from him._

"_Go."_

_Morgan's head snapped up at the command, his turbulent eyes colliding with Hotch's dark probing stare. "Hotch, I..."_

"_I said go. Now."_

_Seeing Hotch's small nod was all the encouragement he needed to follow where his gut and heart were telling him he should be. Without stopping to question the decision any further, he was out of his chair and through the door like a shot, effectively obliterating any chance for Hotch to change his mind._

* * *

Hotch stood facing the board, recalling with perfect clarity what had finally prompted him to vocally force Derek into action. The very visible storm of thoughts alternately materializing and vanishing on his face, in combination with the clenching and immediate unclenching of his muscled frame, was a dead giveaway to what was going through his Agent's mind as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud. Now only ten minutes later, Hotch was already having second thoughts. As he continued staring at each of the pinned pictures, part of him was worrying and wondering if encouraging Derek was the right choice. Time was not on their side with this case and this situation was a distraction they could ill afford. Less than a few seconds later, he felt a presence beside him, but didn't have to look over to know who it was. Dave stood along side him with his hands buried in his pockets, never once looking in Hotch's direction as he began to speak.

"Stop second guessing yourself. Morgan stopped being useful and already had one foot out the door the second his phone buzzed, and we both know it. Better to give him a few minutes and come back to us all in, than to have him sit here accomplishing absolutely squat because his head is downstairs with her."

"Don't you think that's a bit presumptuous on your part Rossi? What makes you so sure he'll be all in when he gets back? For all we know, he could end up even more distracted than before." Hotch turned his head away from the board, his gaze now focused on his teammate.

Dave finally turned towards Hotch. "Let's get realistic here. Morgan has been struggling to get his life back on track for a long time. We all have. But _no one_ more so than him. In all honesty, I didn't think he'd ever recover even remotely after what happened. Face it Hotch, we were devastated, but he was utterly shattered. His world was turned upside down, inside out, and blown completely apart with Garcia's death. And in one way or another, for better or for worse, it's about to happen again. We're finally witnessing genuine emotions from Morgan for the first time in over a year and whether that girl is Angel or Garcia, she's the missing piece in this damn puzzle. A puzzle he's gonna wanna do everything in his power to solve, for his sake as well as hers. If that doesn't make someone all in, then I don't know what does."

"You think she's Garcia don't you?" Hotch studied his face knowing the question might as well be rhetorical. He could see the answer in Dave's eyes.

"Don't you?" The simple question hung in the air, unanswered for only a second, but it wasn't Hotch who responded.

"Don't we all." Emily along with Reid, joined the men, her words more of a statement rather than a question.

"You? Excuse me, but weren't you the one who told Morgan it was impossible?" Dave couldn't help but smirk at her, knowing his comment would in all likelihood irk her and cause a reaction. However, she surprised him by staying unfazed by the subtle dig.

"Well it was... until we started thinking about it in conjunction with the information that Candi was a licenced Hypnotherapist. According to Reid, it's not only possible, but highly probable. In fact, we think that's how everyone's being controlled and kept quiet, at least initially." Prentiss shot a look at Reid offering up the floor for him to continue where she left off.

"Once Prentiss and I had that thought in mind, we went back over the Missing Persons and police reports. In each report there seems to be no witnesses, evidence, or trace whatsoever, in any of the abductions. Not one single case has even definitively _called_ the disappearances abductions. Except for those of the youngest children, and even then, only because of their age. Every case officer's notes were remarkably consistent with their comments leaning towards runaways and free will, rather than actual kidnappings. Up until now, there was absolutely no viable proof that the victims didn't go with their captors voluntarily."

"Which means they not only had to be targeted, but at some point, previously contacted. They wouldn't have submitted to any kind of hypnotic state with a complete stranger in mere seconds. If your theory holds true, then the victims knew their captor or at the very least, trusted them to some degree."

Rossi's statement received a nod of agreement, but Hotch noticed Reid fidgeting like there was more. "What is it Reid?"

"Well, I have no problem understanding the reasoning behind the use of hypnosis on all the victims. To a licenced hypnotherapist, it undoubtedly wouldn't take more than a short meeting or two with a victim to get them to comply to such a simple suggestion, thus enabling the Unsub to take away possible suspicion from their disappearances. All of them, that is, except Garcia. She wasn't just hypnotized, Hotch. She was _reprogrammed_. Depending on the individual, that's something that takes months, sometimes even years and according to current research, that kind of deep level reprogramming performed in this short of a time frame is in no way guaranteed to hold if the subject is confronted with familiar places and people from their past. Why would they spend all that time and effort only to just simply let her go, come back to Quantico, and risk her remembering and possibly telling everyone about them and their operation?"

"Maybe because they _didn't_ plan on her coming back to Quantico. Think about it. We're assuming she wasn't actually in France like she said because we believe the rest of her memories are bogus, but what if she really was? What if they set her up there thinking she'd stay in France because "her life" was there and not in the States?" Rossi asked.

"Makes complete sense," Emily agreed. "They already made sure her old life was completely obliterated by faking her death, and in the process, effectively made sure that no one would question her disappearance or come looking for her. By sending her to France, they pretty much eliminated the risk of anyone from her old life seeing her and putting the pieces together. Chances are they never even considered the possibility of her returning to the States and with her computer skills, what's to say they weren't planning on using her somehow at a later date? It also explains why they didn't just kill her or sell her on the black market."

"Either way, this is all just theories and conjecture and I'm done speculating. It's time for us to get some answers." Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed J.J.'s number. When she answered he kept it short and to the point. "We need everyone back upstairs now."

* * *

_**NOTE:**_  
In none of my research could I either prove or disprove Reid's statements regarding Hypnotherapy/Hypnosis to any degree of certainty, so for the sake of the story, I'm asking if you could please suspend all disbelief and assume them to be correct.


	26. Chapter 26

****

**A/N: Hello everyone! *waves* Did you miss me? I sure missed you.. and this story!**

Well I did it. I came, I saw, and I conqured. As most of you know, this was my first year as a participant in National Write A Novel Month. I challenged myself to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. And not only did I do just that, but I finished early to boot! I hope you don't mind that I took a few days to let that sink in before jumping back into this story. But now I'm back and I want to thank my readers for waiting for me so patiently. If it wasn't for the fact that I knew you were all here waiting for me to finish and come back, I might have never got it done. So that said, I owe my success to my readers as much as to myself. So THANK YOU!

**As an additional side note, there are only 5 days left to place your votes for the Criminal Minds 2010 Profiler Awards. I'd like to take this time to thank my readers again for my nomination in two categories. MUAH! I have also been asked to do a writer interview, which I will try and complete by tomorrow and hopefully, will be posted on the site soon thereafter. This will give my readers a chance to get to know a little bit more about me.**

**And now, on with the story...**

* * *

J.J. closed her phone on a sigh and she knew she couldn't put things off any longer. Still, she couldn't help pause for a moment longer when she turned and saw her friend opening the envelope. Her breath caught in her throat and her body froze simultaneously, as she anxiously awaited some sort of sign to tell her what answers lay written on the paper she saw being removed. She watched closely and her breath released in a whoosh of air when J.J. saw Derek pull her into his arms, and look skyward with a look on his face that could only mean one thing. Angel was Penelope. Tangible relief along side a surprising influx of emotion, caused her to close her eyes and send her own prayer of thanks heavenward. When she opened them again, J.J. had to blink rapidly to hold back the sudden onslaught of tears blurring her vision, and pressed fingers firmly to her mouth to stop the trembling of her lips. After a few deep breaths, her emotions were once again under her control and she stepped forward to the embracing couple, quietly clearing her throat to get their attention.

"That was Hotch... he needs us back upstairs. I'm sorry, but we have to go." J.J. turned and started walking away. After only a few steps, she stopped and turned back around, her eyes once again swimming with unshed tears. "Welcome back Penelope Garcia. You have _no_ idea just how much you've been missed."

The softly spoken words were like a soothing balm to the exposed rawness she was feeling. Without a shred of hesitation, Penelope threw herself at J.J., letting her actions speak for her. The two women took precious moments to hold each other and let their warmth and love for one another bridge the gap of missing memories. With J.J.'s quiet words, Penelope didn't need memories of the past to prove the fact that she was surrounded by people who cared, people who loved her unconditionally and who mattered to her in equal measures. If she never remembered another single thing from her past, she had no doubt that she already knew the most important part.

Derek cleared his throat. He didn't want to interrupt, but he knew they needed to get back upstairs. Not only was the rest of the team waiting, but there were thirteen lives hanging in the balance. They really couldn't afford to give any more time to anything else other than this case. When everyone was found safe and back home, then they could spend the rest of their lives figuring out what to do next.

"I'm sorry ladies, but we really need to go."

"No you're right Derek. Let's go." Penelope pulled back from J.J. and stood up tall and proud. "We have some good news to tell everyone and a case to solve. Lead the way and we shall follow, Hot Stuff."

When he remained frozen to the spot and both of them were staring at her like she sprouted two heads, Penelope realized what she said and heat suffused her face. She couldn't believe what she just called him and had no idea where it came from, but she needed to apologize immediately.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! That was totally inappropriate and I promise it won't happen again."

"Considering I've been waiting for over a year to hear those two words again, words I never ever thought I'd get to hear, that's one promise I have no intention on letting you keep."

"You have?" She looked from Derek to J.J. who wore a satisfied smile bigger than the state of Texas on her face.

Staring at the smiling pair it only took a moment for her to put two and two together and realize that the nickname that slipped so easily from her lips, was one she obviously used before, one her subconscious plainly remembered with complete clarity even if she didn't. She rolled the name around in her head and discovered it felt both familiar and comfortable. A fact that pleased her to no end. "I've called you that before haven't I?"

Derek nodded, absurdly pleased that she figured it out. "More than my God-given name, to be honest, and for as long as I can remember."

"Do I... did you..." Penelope began, not quite sure how to voice the question.

Without hesitation, Derek answered her half formed questions, knowing exactly what it was she wanted to know. "Yes you do and yes I did... Baby Girl."

"Baby Girl? Wait, isn't that what you called me upstairs right before I..." Penelope trailed off as it dawned on her. Now she understood why he'd looked like a kicked puppy when she told him not to call her that ever again. Baby Girl was his nickname for her, but not just a nickname. Evidently, it held a great amount of significance to him... to the both of them, more than likely. Looking at his face now, she saw the pain reflected in his eyes and it hurt her more than she could fathom, knowing that she was the one to put it there.

"Oh Derek, I'm so very sorry. If I'd known then what I know now, I would have never said those awful, horrible things to you. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me? Please... I don't want you to ever stop calling me Baby Girl. I.. I couldn't bear it." The last part of her words were spoken softly, but held a wealth of emotion within their depths. She couldn't explain why she felt this way and she knew it made absolutely no sense given the fact that she couldn't even remember him calling her Baby Girl to begin with, but it didn't stop the feelings from being there just the same. It didn't stop them from being the truth.

"Sweetheart, I could no more stop calling you Baby Girl than I could stop breathing. There is and always will be, only one Baby Girl in my life. That title belongs to you and will forever remain yours, just as sure as there is only one sun in the sky, and until the day that I die, that's never going to change."

His heartfelt declaration had relief surging like an electrical current through her and had Penelope launching herself into his arms without another thought. She may not remember where she'd been, but with Derek by her side, she knew exactly where she was going and who she was going with.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Sorry Gang... I had this post ready for you a couple of days ago, but internet/computer issues prevented me from posting. Better late than never right? With a little bit of luck, I'm going to try and post as frequently as possible to reward you all with your patience.**

**Just a last reminder, tomorrow is the LAST day to go over to Chit Chat Corner in the Forums, and cast your vote for your favourite author and stories in the 2010 Crminial Minds Profiler Choice Awards. VOTING CLOSES ON NOVEMBER 30th. Thank you again to all my loyal readers who thought Incomplete was good enough to be nominated in not one, but two catagories. You really made my entire year and I love you to pieces.**

* * *

When the trio arrived, all four pair of eyes in the Conference room were drawn to their entrance. Seeing Derek and Penelope's clasped hands and everyone's lingering smiles, it didn't' take long for the rest of the team to figure out what happened. One by one, they walked over to Penelope.

"Garcia I take it?" Hotch enquired softly.

"Yes sir. It's me." Penelope gave Derek's hand a squeeze and then was suddenly, but happily, pulled into a warm embrace. Over Hotch's shoulder, she could see the team exchange surprised glances, but kept silent and stepped back out of his hug a moment later.

"Glad to have you back." Hotch stepped back and let Emily rush forward to greet her friend.

"Welcome back PG, we missed you." Emily gave her friend a fierce hug and then quickly stepped back in order to let everyone else have their chance with her. At least that's what she was telling herself, but when she had to keep blinking to clear the watery blurriness from her eyes, deep down she knew the truth. Looking up, her eyes met J.J.'s and they shared an understanding smile.

"For the first time in my life, I've never been so glad to be wrong. I gotta say, if it wasn't for Morgan though, we might never have made the connection and got you back. From what little information we had, he was the only one close enough to you to be able to make the necessary leap needed in order to put it all together. But how he got there in his head still boggles my mind. You're very lucky, Kitten. We all are." Dave pulled Penelope close for a quick squeeze, giving her a brief kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

His words had her darting a look in Derek's direction and she smiled at the warmth radiating from his eyes. Knowing how much she meant to this man, to this team, had an answering warmth surging up and out from her heart. "Oh believe me, I'm well aware of just how lucky I am."

"Is.. is it for.. are you sure?" Reid's stuttering murmur could be barely heard, but it didn't take a Profiler to hear both the tentativeness and fear behind the question along with the need for reassurance. He stuck his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat and tried again. "Are you really her... Penelope, I mean?"

J.J. didn't miss or mistake his agitation. Better than anyone, she knew how much Penelope meant to Spencer Reid and how devastated he was when they thought she died, so she spoke softly and chose her words carefully. "Yes Spence, it's really her. It's really Garcia, I promise."

Although his feelings towards Penelope paled pitifully against the depth and scope of Derek's, they had never been of a romantic nature. He never told anyone outright, but Penelope meant more to him than just about anyone. To him, she was more than just a good friend - she was like the big sister he never had. Penelope was always the one who looked out for him and more often than not, went out of her way to make him feel normal... to make him feel like he belonged. When she died, or rather when they thought she did, she left a gaping hole in his life and heart that no one else was ever able to fill – not that he'd given anyone a chance. When Penelope died, he quarantined his emotions in order to survive, but it didn't stop his eidetic memory from keeping her fresh in his mind and from forcing him to relive her loss again and again.

At his lowest point, Reid was going to meetings sometimes twice a day, just to try and get some semblance of control over both his feelings of loss and the unbelievable depth of the cravings for the mind numbing drugs he once took. But the only thing that truly stopped him from slipping completely into a drug induced oblivion, was the absolute certainty of Penelope's sadness and disappointment in him if he allowed himself to go down that path of destruction. Straight from the consecration of the grave she was saving and protecting him, even if it was only from himself. Now that she was standing here before him, he needed to be crystal clear in his certainty of her existence before he could allow himself the luxury of feelings and emotions once more.

Without really knowing why or understanding what was going on with Reid, Penelope stood as still as animal caught withing striking distance of a Cobra - her eyes as watchful and wary of the young doctor as he was of her. Though admittedly cautious, it wasn't in a fearful way, but more of a case of respectful distancing. Almost intuitively she knew he needed a moment to process and time seemed to stand still as he let his eyes roam over her, a look of stark longing evident in his eyes. It was obvious he wanted to believe, _needed_ to believe, but at the same time he was fearful of trusting in that belief.

When his gaze met hers once more, she slowly smiled until her eyes shone and reflected back at him with a rainbow of glittering emotions and encouragement. It was a radiant smile of epic proportions that dispelled the darkness and fear from his heart, leaving only warmth, love, and acceptance in it's wake. With one brilliant smile, his world stopped spinning in confusion and uncertainty, and instead settled back into place. With just a simple smile, he found the singular most prominent piece of him that had been missing from his life this past year. It was the only smile able to bring him peace and the single facial expression that made everything in his world alright once more. It was the smile that he knew only one person in the world could deliver and that one person was Penelope.

Slowly he allowed himself to respond with an answering grin, shy and irrefutably characteristic to no one but him. "I'm really glad you're back. Welcome home."


	28. Chapter 28

**At long last... the next chapter. Thank you all for waiting and checking up on me. I have the best readers EVER. Enjoy!**

* * *

The hand on Christina's shoulder made her jolt into awareness. Spinning around, she automatically braced herself for confrontation. Instead, she came face to face with a pair of gentle green eyes. They were as familiar to her as her own, having caught the woman staring intently at her on more than one occasion during this last year. But Christina never got over their startling intensity. Their mysterious sparkle drew you in and held you captive. Eyes as deep a green as the purest Emerald, yet as fathomless as the oceanic abyss - and still they managed to remain as welcoming and bright as the sunniest of days.

Siobhan Kelly. Christina had no problem remembering her name, but that had more to do with the unusual pronunciation, rather than anything else. In fact, it wasn't until she'd needed to start hypnosis on Siobhan that she learned her name was pronounced like Shaw-von. Until then, she was nothing more than a uniquely spelled name on a sheet of paper. But her name and eyes weren't the only things that piqued her interest. To round out the triad, Siobhan spoke with a soft and musical Irish lilt, intriguing Christina from the start. Still, there was something else about her that had drawn Christina in - something she couldn't quite put her finger on... something that made her feel both an extraordinary amount of comfort and unease at the same time. It was also the main reason she'd kept her distance from her, from that point forward. Unfortunately, it looked like Siobhan had other plans.

"You're the Candi I heard the guards talking about aren't you? The sister."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Christina, not Candi." The unexpectedness and directness of both the comment and her attention, had Christina tripping slightly over her words. She hadn't been Candi Lansky in a long time and given what her brother was doing, she never wanted to be associated with the name ever again.

Siobhan didn't argue, but instead, tilted her head to the side and leveled her with a steady and knowing gaze before continuing as if Christina never spoke. "You know, no one here blames you. Everything is going to be okay. They're going to find us and your daughter soon. It won't be long now."

Siobhan spoke with such calm certainty that Christina openly gawked at her, internally questioning the woman's sanity. "You do realize that saying it doesn't make it true, don't you?"

"Perhaps... but then again, NOT saying it doesn't make it any less true either. I choose to believe rather than deny." Siobhan finished her comment with a decisive nod, emphasizing her point.

Christina silently studied the serene face before her and came to a conclusion. "No, it's way more than just that. Belief has nothing to do with it. You speak with a level of conviction that only comes from absolute knowledge. How could you possibly know?"

"The same way I know what you did with Penelope Garcia's hypnosis. I know you don't want to do this any more than the rest of us want to be here. You want to get caught. And Penelope is your way out."

Christina couldn't have been more shocked than if she were caught outside in a lightning storm with an iron pole. "How.. how on earth do you even know about her? You weren't around when she was taken and she was released long before you arrived. There's no _possible_ way for you to know about her. Who ARE you?"

"Just think of me as a friend. One of many. You and your daughter will be safe soon, as will the rest of us. It's almost over. It is almost time." Siobhan simply smiled that soft smile of hers and wiped away Christina's escalating fear like it never existed. But her confusion and agitation remained even more pronounced now, than before.

"Time? Time for what?" Christina threw her hands up in frustration at Siobhan's cryptic words. "I.. I don't know what to say. I don't understand how you can be so calm and so certain when I'm not. My daughter is everything to me. I'm terrified for her and right now, I can't see a way out. How is it that you can? Do you know something I don't?"

"Not what, _Christina_, but whom. It's time for them to arrive and for us to go home. Worry not child. None of this is your fault and you will not be held accountable for your actions. Your heart speaks in volumes even when nary a word passes your lips. Soon it will all be nothing more than a bad memory that we all will allow to fade to the barest glimmer of a spark in our minds. I know about the kind of person you are deep inside and the kind of people that are coming for us. Your brother is no match for any of them. His control is not absolute no matter how much it may seem to be at the moment. Trust in your judgment and in yourself. You did what you had to do to survive and to protect your wee one. But you also did what you could do to save us all. And with Ms. Garcia, you did just that."

Understanding dawned in Christina's eyes. "They found her? You're talking about the trigger words aren't you... that's what you mean. Someone in the BAU is going to finally use them aren't they?"

"Aye, her friends have already found her and no one knows her better than them. The words you chose were perfect."

"How do you know that?" When Siobhan just smiled again saying nothing, Christina simply let it go and continued. "I knew she would be my... _our..._ best bet to end this nightmare. I also knew I didn't want just anyone to invoke her memories. I needed them to be triggered by someone who would understand and who could do something. I needed them to be triggered by the BAU. When my brother sent her to France, I was afraid that would never happen. I was afraid they'd never find her again because I knew they weren't looking for her. Casimiro made sure that they wouldn't. He couldn't afford for there to be any chance of an investigation. Once he discovered who she was, he knew he couldn't keep her or just kill her, but he also couldn't chance her telling anyone what happened either. That's why he made sure she left the country and as an added precaution, blew her place up. He needed the BAU to believe she was dead without actually killing her. Oh I know he was never really planning on letting her go completely though. I overheard him. He was saving Penelope for his next shipment coming out of Europe. That's why I did it. She was getting out and I couldn't bear for her to have to go through all this all over again. That and she was my one chance at ending it all for everyone."

"Shh.. We'll talk more later. The guards are coming back." With a gentle squeeze of her hand, Siobhan turned and melted back into the group of women.


	29. Chapter 29

"Alright everyone, listen up. I hate to be the one to break up the impromptu reunion, but we've still got a lot of work to do and in light of recent events, we now know things just got a whole lot harder. Not to mention, it's going to take far longer to solve this case than we originally thought," Rossi declared before nodding to Hotch.

"Garcia, this is where you and your skills come in and as far as I'm concerned, not a moment too soon. We've run into some major complications with this case and from what I can tell, we're going to need every ounce of your computer expertise to get around them if we have any hopes in solving it, without serious consequences to everyone involved - including this entire team. A lot has happened since you and J.J. went downstairs earlier and given everything that took place there, I doubt Morgan had time to fill you in. Sit down and I'll quickly bring you both back up to speed and then you can get started." Hotch's quiet words had the whole team turning to take their seats, everyone instinctively and easily, snapping into BAU mode.

"C'mon Baby Girl. Time to get those gorgeous fingers of yours of flying and work us some of your magic." Unable to resist, Derek brought their joined hands up to his lips, brushing her fingers with a feather-light kiss before gently pulling her towards her laptop.

Both his quietly spoken comment and the whispering touch of his lips made Penelope tingle and blush just a little, even though no one would ever call either one of her personae shy by any stretch of the imagination. Because she didn't remember their past together, she couldn't know what it was exactly about Derek per se, but his words and actions were bringing out the impish side of her nature. A side she couldn't resist letting have a little free reign any longer.

"Your wish is my command, Hot Stuff. With a mouth like yours, you already know I'd follow you anywhere."

The nickname and sassy attitude rolled off Penelope's tongue with an even greater ease than it had before, and most definitely did not go unnoticed by Derek. In an almost automatic response, his dark eyes sparkled playfully, yet with silent elation and he couldn't help grinning widely back at her. In the single beat of a heart they were attuned only to one another and completely oblivious to the rest of the team's reactions happening around them. Their flirtatious and unforeseen comments to one another, had everyone stopping where they stood to stare open-mouthed at the pair. Finally, the lack of movement and ensuing silence had both Derek and Penelope pulling their eyes from each other, pausing mid-step to glance over at their teammates.

"Unless you... have something else in mind for me, Sir?" Penelope raised questioning eyebrows towards Hotch and then back at Derek, not understanding what she was missing and why everyone was staring at her. But Derek, just as confused as she was, could only give an answering shrug to her unspoken query.

"What's going on? Did we miss something?" Derek's voice held a tone of challenge, more than actual inquiry. When everyone remained silent, exchanging furtive glances with one another while trying to put their thoughts into words, anger began to slowly crawl across Derek's face. J.J. sensing an impending explosion, finally took the plunge and spoke up.

"Maybe I can explain, at least from my perspective at any rate. You guys have to understand. It's been a really, _really,_ long time since Garcia was here with us – not to mention right here in the BAU as part of our team. Every now and then, at least for the next little while, memories involving her and the two of you are bound to sneak up and hit us over the head like the business end of a sledgehammer. When that happens, we're going to be left tongue tied and floundering. Not that it's a bad thing," She rushed on when she saw both their bodies tense in reaction to her words, her eyes darting to Emily for help. Like a relay runner, she grabbed the baton from J.J.'s outstretched hand and took up where she left off.

"Actually, it couldn't be more opposite. Garcia I know you're not going to remember, but you and Morgan had this... _thing, _this... way of talking to each other that you did every day both inside the office and out. And c'mon if we're being completely truthful here, it teetered precariously on the edge of sexual impropriety far more often than not. But, that said, it was a unique type of bantering that belonged only to the two of you. After we lost you it took a very long time, but we finally got somewhat used to not hearing it anymore. So when you and Morgan spoke just now - well, it gave me a good, hard memory jolt, as well as everyone else I'm sure. I never, ever thought I'd get to hear you guys talk that way to each other again, let alone witness it first hand. And honestly, until this very minute I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. It's just going to take me - us - a bit of time to get used to having you back and all the returning memories that come with it. Everything is fine. Really. Unfortunately until reality finally sinks in for us and stops having some major shock value, I'm afraid you, and Derek too, are in for a few more 'pin drop' moments. Sorry."

"Well do you think all of you could maybe, you know, try not to have them all together at the same time then? It's making me feel like I should be checking to see if my fly is open and I'm not even wearing any pants!" Her off the wall comment dissipated the remaining tension and everyone began laughing. For the first time since she arrived, Penelope finally felt comfortable enough to be herself and allow her quirky sense of humor to come out to play. And it felt good, natural even. For her, it was her greatest break through yet.


End file.
